The Q's and A's
by Mandy2
Summary: Ginny Weasley, party girl, model, acclaimed athlete and heartbreaker, finally meets her match when a pessimistic Harry Potter returns from America, as documented in a popular Quidditch magazine that focuses on more than just the game.
1. A Reply to the Letter to the Editor

**Disclaimer: I do not own very much…anything you previously recognize is either a reference to my own work or J.K.'s, so don't go lawsuit happy on me…**

**To Whom It May Concern at _The Q's and A's_ Magazine:**

**  This is a response to a letter printed to the editor in last week's issue concerning the articles run about the Holyhead Harpies' star Chaser Ginny Weasley, by an anonymous Puddlemere United fan. In the letter, it is said that the Harpies, although are currently fourth in the league, are 'merely riding on the overabundant and extremely exasperating commercial success of their 'star' Chaser Ginny Weasley, whose talent is, to say the least, limited to her pretty face and a few girlish swings and tosses'. The fan continued on to say that she/he was ashamed that _The Q's and A's_ would continue to print such articles and propaganda.**

**  The Holyhead Harpies have some of the best players in the league, and, as a whole, are a great team. Sadly for them, the three teams above them in the ranks are better. Regardless, no team can 'ride' on the 'overabundant…commercial success' of any player, regardless of beauty or, as we would hope, overriding talent of a particular player. The Chudley Cannons, for example, have had many great players in their time individually, but their merchandise did not fly off of shelves as the Harpies' has in this past year.**

**  Ginny Weasley is a prime example of a talented and intelligent Quidditch player. In this day and age, it is difficult to capture the attention of all of Britain, to unify all wizards and witches, and to gain fans. The several ad campaigns that Ginny Weasley stars in, it should be noted, began to circulate in her seventh year, before she was even mentioned in the British and Irish League drafting papers. The ambitious youngest of the Weasleys has managed precisely what each of her brothers has, meaning she pursued a dream of her own and achieved it on her own terms, with her own talent and power. **

**  Ginny Weasley knows how to make her money last. Her beauty is so extraordinarily ordinary and simple that it is natural that she should take a few ad campaigns on, to make sure her risky and possibly paralyzing career pays off. And as for the other 'crimes' mentioned by your Puddlemere fan, such as 'grabbing cheap headlines with a bump and a grind', referring to one of your articles, 'Young, Fun and Twenty-One', the girl is twenty-two years old. She is allowed to have fun.**

**  Don't brush off this determined, gifted and clever young woman simply because you can't walk into a young witch or wizard's bedroom without finding _something_ with her face on it. That is her choice and it is a wise one indeed.**

**  And just to reassure you, I'm a Puddlemere fan myself.**

**                                                                                                Sincerely,**

**                                                                                                _Oliver Wood_**

ONE 

  It was December of 2003. Twenty-two-year old Ginny Weasley listened to ex-boyfriend and close friend Kirley Duke ramble on about some new band and the royalties to some song. The two were browsing through a distinctly rock-and-roll record collection owned by Kirley's godfather and mentor, Denton Camden.

  "It's been rather difficult and quite amusing to get the rights to use it. We're paying them quite legally, of course, but being Muggles, they can't figure out where the song is so damned popular." Kirley said with a laugh, referring to his band's latest cover, _Dream A Little Dream of Me_, which was originally sung by the Mamas and the Papas, an American band that were popular when Kirley's mum was.

  "You know what just occurred to me, Kirley?" Ginny asked as she picked up an old copy of a Gemini's Eye album, "You are one big kid."

  The nearly thirty rocker beamed.

  "And you were entirely too old for me."

  His smile fell and Ginny smirked. She put the album down and reached up to stroke his cotton-covered arm gently. "I was just kidding, Kirley, I knew exactly what I was getting into. Don't let me fool you otherwise; I'd sound like my brothers."

  Kirley grunted, and continued to browse through the collection of _Gobstones_ records. Ginny shrugged and knew that her next-to-best friend would get over it soon. He always did.

  Ginny liked Denton's London apartment, in the quiet Notting Hill, where the aging rock veteran never spent his time anymore anyhow. It was a private getaway for her and Kirley, whose fame, both were saddened by, became less about their careers and more about their wealth and the products they pushed. Neither was ashamed of anything they endorsed, but the amount of coverage they got for being human beings was starting to annoy them.

  "We should really grab something to eat." Ginny suggested all of a sudden. With that, Kirley's eyes lit up and Ginny knew she had hit the spot. Very few things made Kirley unhappy, and food was definitely not one of them.

  So the pair slipped on their sunglasses and Kirley stripped himself of his ripped leather robe and stuffed it into his backpack, and Ginny did the same, and they made their way down the narrow stairs out of Denton's home and into Muggle London.

  "WEASLEY!" Tom Worthington bellowed, sticking his head out of his office door to catch the tall redhead snoozing in his chair.

  "Oh!" Ronald Weasley exclaimed, sitting up abruptly.

  Tom Worthington, he noticed, had a box. A box filled with his office things.

  "Getting promoted, old chap?" Ron asked, trying to sound as friendly as possible towards the monstrous Tom.

  "Very funny, Weasley. I thought you might like moving your…" Tom's eyes took in the shabby state of Ron's desk, which, besides the amazing amount of messy paperwork, was fairly bare. "Things into your new office."

  The corners of Tom's mouth curled upwards. "I cannot believe you have my job."

  Alicia Spinnet then decided to come hurtling onto their floor. "Hi. Bye. Yes. No. No. Yes. Talk to me about it later. Maybe. No. No. NO! Oh, and Weasley, you've been promoted since Worthington's been fired."

  Both men gaped at the young fireball who was clearly in charge of the League Draft Division, where they all (except, currently, Worthington) worked.

  "Oh. All right." Ron said weakly, and Tom rolled his eyes.

  "Christ, Weasley, you'd think you'd be a little complimented that you are now Vice President of Public Relations of the British and Irish League Draft." Tom said snootily, before walking off in a huff. "The nerve of that Spinnet."

  Ron dug his wand out of his front pocket and opened all of his drawers, grabbing a nearby box and directing his things into a haphazard pile in the box.

  "This is strange."

  What seemed to be less strange was that Colin Creevey was actively taking photographs. Of former classmate Ginny Weasley, no less. The striking redhead, dressed in clothes in her team's colors that looked halfway between handmade and painstakingly scoured for, was jaywalking across a quiet street in Muggle London with former flame and close friend Kirley Duke. The two were jogging hand in hand, almost affectionately. Could the tumultuous headline grabbers be back at it again?

  That was precisely how he would describe the photograph. The fashion editor of Personality Photographs Incorporated would later rephrase the ensemble as 'soft, gold suede pants', 'a cute dark green jumper', and a 'black corduroy classic pea coat'. Not that Colin cared. It was getting him paid.

  He didn't expect to bump into Harry Potter while practically stalking the man's best friend's little sister.

  Harry Potter had finally returned to England. For three years, the Boy Who Lived had been battling He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's American supporters, who, although had read, in great detail, of the brunette's defeat of the Dark Lord, were stirring up more trouble than the Americans can handle, and finally, Harry Potter was home. It would've been a headline story, should Colin live to be able to sell it.

  "Oh, hi, Harry! Long time no see!" Colin exclaimed, putting his camera away as casually as possible. "Just…snapping a rare moment. A quiet London, indeed!"

  Harry's hands, both shoved into pockets of his coat, tightened into fists. "Yes, a little too quiet, I'd say."

  Harry's brilliant green eyes scanned the street until they rested upon a red-haired woman, whose cream-colored-gloved hands, brushing back hair from her face as the London December raged on, a snug cap encasing the top of her head and sunglasses shielding her eyes, made him raise an eyebrow. The girl reached back to clutch her male companion's hand.

  "Next time you want a photo of her, mate, just ask." Harry muttered before turning to corner the young woman.

  Kirley stopped and Ginny bumped into him, sending her sunglasses slightly askew.

  "Kirley!" Ginny exclaimed, before turning on her booted heel to see why her friend had stopped.

  Harry could see her bright brown eyes and they looked fairly innocent, and, with her face, completed a put-together elegance Harry all too well recognized.

  "Harry!" Ginny greeted cordially, and almost breathlessly. She almost laughed at the giddy sound of her voice. "When'd you come home?"

  Harry was pleased to see that she seemed unabashed about whatever was the reason for her to have clutched Kirley's hand whilst crossing the street.

  "Only two days ago. I've been living at the Leaky Cauldron until I can find an apartment." Harry was startled as the girl stepped forward to give him a hug. The pair's friendship had strengthened when it had been the three of them: Harry, Ginny and Ron, on the Quidditch team. Harry had become captain his sixth year, and Ginny lead the Chasers whilst Ron was the Keeper, and, of course, Harry had returned to his star position as the Seeker. Hermione had even felt inclined to say that the three of them left her out during Hogsmeade afternoons while they talked non-stop about Quidditch.

  The pair embraced longer than their hugs had been back at Hogwarts. Harry could feel every tight, toned muscle in Ginny's body, even through her clothes.

  He shook his head miserably at the thought of Ginny's tight and toned every muscle without her clothes.

  Ginny could feel every listless hope of coming home in Harry's body, which was noticeably as trim as her own tiny figure, and equally sculpted. 

  "I'll have to tell Mum about this." Ginny said with a smirk as Harry drew back.

  "I'd say the same thing." Harry replied almost coldly, and the instantly apologetic look in his eyes told Ginny he hadn't meant to come off as aloof as he did.

  "You're forgiven, and what on earth are you talking about?" Ginny asked and the corners of Harry's mouth twitched with amusement.

  His eyes snaked down her sleeve to the pair of gloved hands clutching one another.

  Instantly, the cream-colored hand pulled away.

  "Oh, please, Harry." Ginny snorted, looking slightly embarrassed—not as if they were dating or even considering it, but because she had allowed herself to hold Kirley's hand in public as if they _were_ a couple.

  "Oh, please, nothing. You don't tell your mum I'm home, and I'll say nothing of it. But, just a warning, Colin Creevey's going to sell that photo to _Witch Weekly_ and I believe I sent her a subscription last Christmas." Harry said with a finalizing smirk. Ginny rolled her eyes with disgust.

  "As if the little bugger isn't taking pictures of you right now. I see right through you, Harry Potter, you want to surprise my mum and ruin my Christmas." Ginny smiled. "Well, if your mere presence hasn't been enough to get that camera snapping, maybe this will."

  Ginny reached up to the distinctly taller Harry and gripped his face. Her hands were warm, he noted. She pulled him into a gentle kiss and broke away barely a moment later, for she and Kirley continued on their search for a soup joint.

  Harry Potter was home at last.


	2. Dating History and Drafting Changes

CHASING GINNY: The Many Flames of It Girl and Holyhead Harpies' Chaser Ginny Weasley

**By Margarita A. Li**

**  Damn is it hard to keep up with the red-haired vixen that makes a splash on every magazine. I'm lucky I have my sources; else we'd never be able to explain why Ginny Weasley is so damn popular.**

**  Sorry, love, I know you'll hate it, but the fans of _The Q's and A's_ magazine are dying to know: how DID you manage to become a popular Quidditch player to international supermodel to dignified spokesperson and still have time to eat, sleep and drink?**

**  So we're tracing our steps all the way back to our lovely Miss Ginny's days at Hogwarts. After ditching her awkward shell and proving she is just as good as her six other brothers, who provided her with more than enough friends to drool over, including hilarious announcer Lee Jordan and the heroic Harry Potter, Ginny began dating Michael Corner, who would become the youngest head of the Magical Games and Sports Department ever; and after that, budding artist Dean Thomas, and after that, fellow young model Blaise Zabini, who actually gave Ginny her first big break, and in her final year of Hogwarts, things started to pick up and Ginny had no time for boys anymore!**

**  So Ginny, at the young age of barely seventeen, began starring in the eye-catching and provocative _Insomnia_ handbag ads, which began circulating in men's magazines across the wizarding world, from _Play_ to _Young Bachelor's Digest_ to even _The Q's and A's_. The fan letters poured in as Howlers from each of her family members warned Ginny of falling flat on her face if she didn't make strategic career moves. So after one last visit to a Hogsmeade photographer, Ginny began concentrating on her Quidditch.**

**  Strategically, indeed.**

**  Ginny was drafted before you could say 'Gryffindor', and before the year was over, Ginny had three contracts under her belt: _Insomnia _handbags, the Holyhead Harpies, and _Mounted_ shoes. Soon, the shockingly fresh-faced ads began to surface from their male-targeted roots to regular circulation, from billboards to ads in women's magazines and mentions at Quidditch games.**

**  While Ginny trained, her popularity grew, and a Prides draftee introduced her to Kirley Duke, the lead guitarist of _The Weird Sisters_, and the two instantly began dating. Ginny's eleven-month relationship with the prince of magic's rock airwaves cemented her as a punk princess and landed her yet another ad account, this time for _Laces and Nets_, a popular brand of a new style.**

**  The romance fizzled as Ginny's career became more than just flashing the cameras a smile in popular clothing, shoes and with, of course, the perfect accessories. Kirley and Ginny are still 'good friends', constantly still being seen together to this day in London's most fashionable shops and cafés. Some speculate the pair have been on-again, off-again, but each respectively have had many flings to follow.**

  While playing hard-core, Ginny managed to meet and snare another rocker, Dominic Freyr, whose roots to the Harpies was fan-based. The romance ended as Ginny reached her twenty-first birthday and the Harpies lost out in a second-to-last round of playoffs for the League Cup.

**  Ginny became quite the party-girl, seen at every hot spot whilst following her first love, Quidditch, and shopping at the finest stores for jewelry, as she got many free clothes, shoes and bags from her ad campaigns. Hope arose for another romance with fellow Quidditch player Artemis Signy, but their four-month fling ended when Signy and Ginny were matched against each other in the League's All-Star Playoffs for the International Team.**

**  Ginny, now twenty-two, is on the league's fourth ranked team and her popularity only seems to be mounting, forgive the pun. Do we have hope for the Glory Girl, as fan magazines have begun to refer to her? Of course. Only time will tell if Quidditch will tell her who is the one.**

**NEW DRAFT REGULATIONS TO PROVIDE INJURED TRAINEES MORE TIME**

**By B.B. Finley**

**  The Public Relations Department of the British and Irish League Draft released a statement late last week that read:**

**"We are more prepared to deal with individual problems now that politics have settled down and we are thus expanding the cut-off age of the draft to twenty-five. Some injuries in the past have prevented bright players from getting their proper opportunities; as well as the Second War has kept some of our bravest and best from even considering their drafting cards. With the draft now enlisting players from the age of sixteen to twenty-five, we are also providing a lot of injured current players an opportunity for salary until they can heal."**

**  The announcement has not come without controversy. The Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, has returned from a three-year Auror mission in America to catch the dying last of You-Know-Who's free supporters, was one of the cleverest Seekers in Hogwarts history, being the youngest house team member in a century when he made the team in his first year.**

**  When we reached the Public Relations Department of the British and Irish League Draft, the new vice president, Ronald Weasley, looking spiffy and somewhat nervous, told us that Mr. Potter's return was announced to the department came after the statement was released. While this is true, fans of Quidditch who attended Hogwarts during Potter's six-year engagement on the team can't help but be hopeful that Potter may join, for example, the Holyhead Harpies, breaking the infamous tradition of the Harpies only hiring witches to play for them, but for the legendary Potter, rules and traditions have nearly never been upheld.**

**  It should be noted that the Harpies' star Chaser was seen giving the Boy-Who-Lived a more than affection kiss upon his return on the streets of Muggle London.**

**TWO**

  Molly Weasley dropped the magazine like a hot potato. Fred and George Weasley smirked at each other.

  "Ron got promoted and didn't even owl!" Molly exclaimed and the twins' evil grins dropped almost instantaneously. They looked back to Charlie with huge puppy dog eyes.

  "Just wait." Charlie mouthed to them, rolling his eyes as he did a crossword in the _Quibbler_.

 "Harry's home!" Molly exclaimed happily a moment later. Fred and George's smiles stretched once more.

  Simultaneously, the Weasley women screamed.

  "I cannot believe she did that!" Both screamed, about two entirely different reporters.

  "What?" Three entirely different men asked with innocence too pure to be their own.

  "This—this—this article!!!"

  "She put photos of me when I was in school and from when I was drafted—when I was dating you, ew!"

  "She kissed Harry and worst—they got it on camera!"

  "Oh, please."

  "Mum, _you_ kiss Harry."

  "Oh, shut up, Kirley. It isn't your awkward teenage pictures they're publishing in a _Quidditch_ magazine, mind. You'd think they'd stick to Quidditch."

  "Oh, shut up, Charlie. It isn't your daughter they're talking about."

  "There're still photos of me in there!"

  "She's my sister, you know!"

  "There's only one solution." Both said at the same time, standing up and having an obviously hereditary cold glint in their eyes. "Christmas. This will all be settled at Christmas."

  Ginny hustled onto the pitch for the last pre-Christmas hols practice with a new glow about her, a basket tucked under her arm.

  "Weasley, do you insist like smelling of gingerbread when we've all been starving!" Her team's manager, Roger Davies, growled, before attempting to kiss the lovable redhead on the cheek.

  "Well, fine, I don't _have_ to feed you my little men that absolutely JUST came out of the oven." Ginny pulled off the thick golden cloth keeping the heat in, and the beautiful scent was released into the air and all of the players crowded around the girl eagerly. Hands reached into the basket and Ginny got the last three until another hand reached in.

  "Oh, we have a visitor. But I'm sure you already knew that." Roger said, his voice slightly muffled, him having gingerbread in his cheek.

  "Hi, Ginny. Good gingerbread. Nearly as good as your mum's." Harry cheekily said, appraising the little woman dressed in green Quidditch robes with a gold talon streaked across the front.

  Ginny smirked, taking a gingerbread cookie for herself. "It's her recipe, the best I can hope for is nearly as good."

  "Wonder if that's the cycle." Harry said after a moment.

  Ginny raised one eyebrow quizzically at her friend. "What would you mean, my love?"

  Harry had to stop himself from scowling. Ginny hadn't been a trendy, London city girl when he had left, but then again, he had probably changed himself. 

"I mean, if the recipe has deteriorated more and more since the original, I suppose the original was enough to knock you out. Then again, your mum probably got progressively better, having done the recipe over and over again, so in time, you should be able to do the same. You know, cook and knock someone out."

  "That's not the only thing I can do to knock you out." Ginny muttered with a smirk.

  Harry Potter's brow furrowed as his former teammate and best friend's sister mounted her broom suggestively, and his eyes darted first to the ground in his confusion, and then back up to the feisty and petite little vixen punching at the Quaffle as if it were light as a feather.

  Was she flirting with him, or was she just messing with him?

  He took another bite of her gingerbread Quidditch player. 

  "Mum, I'm fairly sure he can take it." Ron said, rolling his eyes as his mother bustled about the kitchen worriedly.

  "I'm pretty sure she's been over him since she was thirteen, Mum." Percy added monotonously from behind a book.

  Their mother stopped to stare at her third eldest child with sad eyes and a bright smile. They had patched things up in Ron and Harry's seventh year, when the Second War made it hard for Percy to find loyalty within the Ministry as he worked his way up. Percy returned to his family to get the 'family man' appearance required for the International Magic Cooperation Department, and he was made ambassador to America, and when he crossed the pond, he had taken a Dark-Lord-defeating Harry Potter with him.

  "I'm just worried about him. He's no match for Ginny's charm. She can grasp the best and the brightest in her clutches in less than six hours—"

  "You'd think you were talking about some scarlet woman you read about in the scandal sheets rather than your own daughter." Charlie commented as he ran a finger through his mother's cookie batter.

  "She's getting to be no more than some spoiled heiress hopping about London with different men every week and—"

  "Mum, she was with her best friend." Charlie protested in a slightly frustrated and strangled voice.

  Ron reached for the latest copy of _Young Bachelor's Digest_, one of his favorite magazines. He was shocked to find the back cover emblazoned with his sister's barely clad curvy figure, in high heels and lingerie revealed by open robes.

  "Underneath it all, I'm in Love. Are you? Love Lingerie: London, Paris, New York, Los Angeles, Milan, Hogsmeade. The perfect stocking stuffer." Ron read with inquisitive disgust. "Ugh, that was not a pre-meal image."

  "Who's the hot redhead?" Fred asked whilst passing the magazine with a quick glance. "AH! AH!"

  "Put it away!" George exclaimed when he too read the words, _Ginny Weasley, Holyhead Harpies Chaser_.

  Fred grabbed at the magazine and tossed it into the fire, hitting Harry Potter on the cheek.

  "AH!" Harry cried, Ginny's cheeks (and not the ones on her face) flashing before him. The magazine fell into the fire promptly and Ron turned.

  "Could've owled us when you knew you were coming home, mate." Ron greeted good-heartedly.

  "What in bloody—excuse me, Mrs. Weasley—what the HELL was that?" Harry demanded, his eyes wide behind his thin glasses, horrified.

  "Just another of Ginny's ads." Charlie answered reasonably. "Quite scary, really."

  "Harry, my love!" Molly bustled over to the fire, stirring her batter all the while. "How've you been?"

  "Well, I—"

  "You're coming up for Christmas, naturally."

  "Naturally, I just—"

  "Make sure to pass on word to that wild daughter of mine, I mean honestly, she's just—"

  "Harry, mate, how were the States? Ginny said you came and saw a game of hers up there when she was on the national team." Ron continued, cutting his mother off and receiving a thwap on the head.

  "Yeah, it was great when they beat those Yanks. I can't remember much about the after-party, naturally, you know…" Harry's eyes scanned the room. "Tell me, Ron, is Gin dating anyone?"

  Molly gasped and scowled, and Fred grinned.

  "No, she isn't, Harry, why do you ask?" George asked innocently, whilst his twin whistled a happy tune.

  "Oh, no reason, it's just she and that…Kirley fellow she was dating before I left were out in London together looking pretty cozy if you ask me…she looked a mite guilty about it when I said something." Harry told them with a grin. Percy's chest puffed out greatly.

  "I never liked him. Too old for her."

  "Exactly!" Molly chorused.

  "What on earth have I done to have my ears burning so?" A female voice asked in the doorway, and there the girl stood, in the flesh, looking like a warm bundle of soft fabrics with presents stuffed under her arms and suitcases in gloved hands. Harry's eyes turned to see the ravishing girl, having obviously just walked up the hill from the village, snow settling on her hair and the light from outside and the fire striking it just right. Her cheeks were rosy, as was the tip of her nose. "Harry Potter, I swore I thought I told you to come here for Christmas. Are you still in London being an old busybody? It is three days before Christmas, and I'm expecting you this very evening in this house to test my gingerbread cookies."

  Harry gaped at the girl in the doorway and shook his head, the appendage disappearing from the fire with a pop.

  That very evening the Weasley living room and kitchen were bustling with people. All five of the grandchildren were crowded into the living room, eating their packed little plates on the coffee table, barely able to fit, what with their bachelor twin uncles trying to entertain them, their youngest uncle's fiancée trying to cradle the baby delicately and the Christmas tree touching the ceiling with piles upon piles of presents lining the floor beneath it.

  Bill and his wife Fleur had already retired upstairs, glad they had a night off from their five-year-old, three-year-old and newborn, which Hermione and the twins were sharing duty of. Charlie and his wife Nala had also opted to take their supper upstairs, their own twins being a handful, even though they were six and their younger brother was three. Ron eventually decided to join his fiancée in the living room, leaving Percy, Molly, Arthur, Ginny and Harry in the kitchen.

  "Harry, dear, if you don't mind my saying, I'd watch out for Ginny if I were you." Molly whispered whilst she served Ginny's second batch of gingerbread Quidditch players that evening.

  "Hmm?" Harry asked, not sure his ears were clean.

  "She seems very sweet but she's really—well, she's a bit—fast, if you know what I mean? All I can do is not approve, I can't make that stubborn little girl do anything. She's been managing her life from her sixteenth birthday and trying to get her to settle down is like fighting a dragon with no weapons." Molly shook her head. "I wish she would settle down, but she won't. Don't let her fool you into thinking she will."

  "What do you think, Harry? As good as my mum's?"

  Both Molly and Harry looked up guiltily and Harry realized his cookie had gotten cold while Molly had been talking to him.

  Harry took a bite. Surprisingly, it was better than Molly's.

  "Tastes great!" Harry replied, and Ginny grinned. Both Molly and Harry's smiles drooped at the sight of the size of her smirk.

  "That can't be good." Molly whispered.

  Harry woke up at about eleven that evening to pounding at his door. He was in part of the expanded part of the Burrow, where the 'singles', meaning Percy, Harry, Fred, George and Ginny were being housed. He searched for a proper pair of pants, but Ginny marched right in anyhow.

  "What _have_ you been telling my mum?" She asked in an almost sultry voice, flinging her pajama-clad figure down on his bed.

  "I thought you were in Love." Harry said after a moment, finding it the most appropriate comment at the time.

  "What the bloody hell gave you that impression?" Ginny hissed, sitting up.

  "It said so in the ad." Harry replied, shrugging. Her eyes narrowed in the dark.

  "Very funny."

  "Well, it seemed like quality lingerie, I don't see why you don't wear it down here—"

  "Would you like me to wear it?" Ginny asked in an almost innocent voice, standing up and glaring at her friend.

  "Why do you always do that?" Harry demanded in a loud whisper, rushing up to her as if the other 'singles' could hear her.

  "Do what?" Ginny asked, grasping a bit of her chin-length hair and twisting it around her finger.

  "Twist my words around? I'd swear you were flirting with me if I didn't know any better!" Harry spat accusingly, and Ginny backed up, falling back on to the bed.

  "And would it be terribly insulting if I _was_ flirting with you?" Ginny huffed, turning her back on him.

  "NO!" Harry shouted. "I didn't say that! It's just awkward!"

  "Why?" Ginny asked coldly. "It's not like you'd take me up on any insinuated suggestions."

  Harry stepped forward softly and stared at her cotton-clad back. He hadn't been in the country for more than a week and he was seriously contemplating hooking up with its most infamous bad girl.

  "When did you change, Gin? I knew you were independent when I left…"

  Ginny turned, her eyes dancing with malice. "Who said the change was a bad thing?"

  "I didn't."

  Ginny's eyes softened. She had thought about seducing him once or twice, for her own amusement. But then again, it had been in her shallow, lonely days. Now she was merely alone. Wiser, older, more mature—he was honest.

  "I like going about my business as I normally would. It isn't my fault if people choose to photograph it." She said finally, dismissing him as lightly as possible even if a string tugged at her heart painfully.

  Harry rolled his eyes. "Never mind, forget I said anything."

  "Oy! Gins, can you make me a cuppa?" Fred called loudly in his sleep. Harry backed up, hitting the wall of his small room.

  "Harry Potter, you are one to talk about change." Ginny suddenly snapped reprovingly. "You come back from the States weak and pessimistic. I could see it in your eyes in the fire!"

  "What? What are you talking about, you nutter?" Harry squeaked. It was true. The Second War certainly had drained him, but hadn't it drained everybody? Well, obviously not everybody, Ginny seemed fine, but…

  "I mean, I know you don't have a purpose now that you've caught every single person even _contemplating_ the Dark Arts but—"

  "I do too have a purpose!" Harry protested, and Ginny's eyes narrowed.

  "Your whole life revolved around capturing and ensuring Death Eaters stayed behind bars, Harry. You wanted life to be perfect. And now it is and you're depressed. I saw it in your suspicious eyes in London and I saw it in the fire and I see it now." Ginny told him monotonously.

  Harry's heart began to sink. She was too observant for her own good.

  "When did you become so perfect, Ginny?" Harry retorted softly, his voice harder than ice.

  "Why'd you come home, Harry? Your missions ended a year ago. Percy came home a year ago."

  Harry swallowed the lump in his throat.

  "Unless you develop your own, independent, optimism, Harry, you're never going to be able to see life as you once did."

  Harry's breathing got heavier and he gritted his teeth. "And how did I once see it?"

  "With a fresh hope, Harry, I remember it. I remember when it was more about doing it because it was right than because it was your job." Ginny told him, standing up."

  "How WOULD you know, Ginny?" Harry hissed at her, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

  "You forget your rescues over time, I suppose, when you're a hero." She muttered icily. "I was once on the receiving end of your optimism, Harry. You're not going to find it here. It's your own battle."

  "Shut up, Ginny." Harry said quietly.

  "Why, so you can continue being miserable and suspicious and treating your former teammates like they're strange new girls who you've never met before but know you can't touch?" Ginny chuckled bitterly. "As if I would let you! There's only so much a strong girl can do, Harry!"

  "Shut up, Ginny!" Harry repeated, louder this time.

  "What if I don't want to?" Ginny shrieked, her fingers curling into tiny, powerful fists.

  "GIN? Where's my cuppa?" Fred, as it turns out, was awake, and awkwardly stumbling through the halls of the add-on searching for her.

  "I've got to go." Ginny whispered.

  "Good."

  "Think about it, Harry." Ginny continued, as if she had never heard him.

  Harry punched the air where she had been standing after she left.

  The tension between the pair could've been sliced through only the sharpest of knives and spells the following morning. Percy, Charlie, Arthur, Fleur, Nala and Bill were all called to the Ministry for some random emergency, and Ron and Hermione decided, after much consideration, to take the kids out into the snow. Molly began preparing the Christmas feast, and the remaining four tried to squeeze into the living room.

  "Will you please tell Ginny to pass the crumpets?" Harry asked George quietly. George rolled his eyes and reached for the crumpets plate himself.

  "Will you please tell Harry to grow some balls?" Ginny asked Fred more friskily.

  "Will you please tell that scarlet woman that just because she has found a way to lead her life as guiltfree and superficially as possible does not mean that the rest of the world can do the same with their less-spoiled careers?"

  "Will you _please_ tell the self-righteous bastard that some of us have chosen to lead happy-go-lucky lives and can realize when what they're doing is making them into miserable, geeky saps?"

  The twins finally had had enough. Ginny and Harry were locked into separate rooms until the pair could remember some silencing charms.

Two nights before Christmas and all through the house, 

Some creatures were stirring, even the _real_ mouse. 

Harry Potter and Ginny were wrapped up tight, 

Stuck in the bathroom for what it seemed like all night. 

For at the top of the stairs, they screamed in woe, 

They were unheard by the creatures below. 

While the faint smells of Christmas beckoned quite near, 

The Boy-Who-Lived just began filling with fear. 

Those boys and parents with Ginny's bright red hairs 

Created the noises of the joy downstairs. 

The beautiful athlete with a gift of flight 

Untangled herself from the brunette that night. 

As the pair arose from their painful landings, 

The uncontrollable lust gave their tongues wings. 

As they fell back to the floor with a clatter, 

They just missed the gingerbread platter. 

In their haste, recognized names flashed in their minds

Regret so temporary, wounds healed with time

There's Ronald, and Charles, and William and Fred!

And George and Percy, and the parents in bed!

The eggnog was flowing, the treats a delight

Now pour away! Pour away! Pour all night!

The tension between the pair quickly dissolved

As their tongues spelled the words of each of their faults

All past loves forgotten, all lies pushed aside

All best friends besotted on a tinkling sleigh ride.

Their hands moved to places only described

In the darkest of places with the least bit of light.

Soon to follow were robes to the floor

At a sensual speed they couldn't take anymore.

So quickly words of caution were murmured

After the release of wands was heard

The couple got to a speed unmeasured by time

That managed to get made into a cutesy rhyme.

As they eventually reached their climaxes respectively

He searched her brown eyes rather inspectively.

All he could see was not some secret mission

But a little girl begging, as if for permission

Permission to love him, permission to care

Begging for answers, hoping he'd stay there

So they cuddled closer and the lock was unlocked

The elder twin scowled as his pay was docked.

The identical pranksters, with matching looks of disgust

Closed the door again, not believing the lust.

The brunette and the redhead settled to sleep

Both soundly sleeping without the least peep.

The tumultuous pair had more problems to fight, 

But all was forgotten on this cozy winter night.

To be continued…


	3. What I Want For Christmas

Disclaimer: I was planning on breaking down the poem in this chapter, and since so many of my reviewers were confused, I decided, what the hell? So here goes…this chapter will begin where the chapter left off before the poem.

Ten Things To Get For Your Favorite Quidditch Fan By A.J. Lubbock 

**1) For Your Quidditch-Playing Girlfriend- A charm of her piece of equipment**

**2) For Your Quidditch-Playing Boyfriend- A pair of his favorite team's boxers—with a promise for some fun**

**3) For the Fanatic- A subscription to _The Q's and A's_ magazine**

**4) For the Clean-Freak- _Madam Hooch's Professional Broom Maintenance Kit_**

**5) For the Budding Fan- The Norbert Lewis Company's_ My First Broom_**

**6) For the Bookworm- Quidditch Through The Ages By Kennilworthy Whisp**

**7) For Your Little Brother- Anything having to do with Ginny Weasley**

**8) For Your Little Sister- Anything having to do with Ginny Weasley**

**9) For the One Who Just Made the House Team- A Nimbus 3000**

**10) The Perfect Gift- The Firebolt**

THREE 

  Harry and Ginny were eventually allowed out when the Weasley parents exasperatedly ordered it upon retiring to bed. Ginny began making some more gingerbread, as, in her absence, the remaining awake members of the Weasley family had eaten whatever the female members of the Weasley family had spent hours toiling over.

  Harry sat in the kitchen and watched her, her face stone cold. Harry had his papers spread about the table, in textures ranging from pulp to thick paper, in colors from plain white to shiny lavender, and inks from sparkly to scratchy.

  "What have you got there?" She asked eventually, as the twins had devilishly shoved everyone out of the kitchen, part of their effort to get the pair talking again.

  It worked.

  "Job offers. Ever since that little ditty in _The Q's and A's_, everyone's been sending me job offers. From Arabian bankers to this company in the States."

  Ginny made a disinterested noise and rolled out the dough. She pulled her wand out and made the shapes with a flick and a swish.

  Harry grinned at her and she swatted him with the rolling pin.

  "Hmm…Puddlemere's looking awfully interesting." Harry whispered in her ear as she flicked the excess dough off of the cookie sheet.

  "It's my rival team." Ginny answered coldly.

  "Come on, Gin, we both said things—" Harry began, and Ginny raised an eyebrow.

  "Don't even start with that. _I_ did all the talking and I meant everything I said." Ginny told him flatly.

  "Alright, alright!" Harry shook his head in surrender, eating the excess cookie dough.

  "It's not working, Fred."

  "If anything, it's getting more awkward."

  "Shut up, Percy."

  Fred brought a finger to his lips, pulling a vial out of his pocket. "Oy, Gin, could you make a cup of tea?"

  He pulled a wand out of his robe with his free hand and pointed it through the archway at Ginny's back. "_Kalahari_."

  "Actually, I _am_ rather thirsty. Anyone up for a cup of tea?" Ginny flicked her wand about, getting the ingredients out.

  "Ginny makes the best cup of tea, Harry." Percy confided in him. Harry nodded gravely, paying attention to his papers.

  Ginny made the tea the Muggle way, Harry noticed. She had pushed the cookie tray into the oven, oven mitts on, apron strings dangling and Harry smiled. As she stirred the tea atop the oven, he leaned forward and took his wand with his free hand and tied the strings to his fingers.

  At first, she didn't notice. Harry had moved so that he could reject letters without her noticing, and of course, had lengthened the strings on her apron.

  Moments later, as Ginny began setting the timer, Fred undid his spell on her and suddenly she wasn't so thirsty. Her brothers and Harry all gathered around in the kitchen as she began pouring the tea and Ginny found it difficult to move.

  "Harry!" She cried, swatting at the apron strings absentmindedly. "Untie those!"

  "Dunno…I like this distance from you. You can't bite me." Harry said, tossing aside the Arabian banking letter.

  "I wouldn't count on it." Percy said, and the twins snorted into their teacups. Eventually, Fred managed to slip a little something into the tiny bit of tea Ginny had poured for herself.

  Ginny, of course, got around to sipping hers and nearly spat it out. "Oh, this is horrible!"

  "It tastes just fine, Gin!" George said, winking at his twin.

  "It tastes great!" Harry added, but the girl covered her mouth in disgust and rushed out of the kitchen.

  "Remember to go to the bathroom at the top of the stairs, Gin…you'll wake up everyone if you blow chunks anywhere else!" George shouted after her and Percy spat into his cup, yelling at George about being obscene.

  Harry sped after the dashing redhead and the twins after him.

  "Gin?" Harry asked softly. There was no answer. He tried to shake the doorknob, and it wouldn't come undone. The more he tried, the more it began to burn. He tried using his wand to get the door to unlock, but it didn't work. "Gin, I'm coming in!"

  Harry Apparated into the bathroom, only to land directly on her.

  "Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. She pushed him off easily—mainly because he had lost weight, even if he was all muscle, but mostly because of whatever she had drunken.

  "Are you alright?" Harry whispered. "You wouldn't open the door."

  "It wasn't locked." Ginny answered worriedly, getting up and trying the doorknob again. "I wasn't even sick…something just tasted disgusting…overwhelmingly disgusting, but by the time I shut the door, I felt fine. I didn't even hear you"

  Harry followed her and after a few minutes, she threw her hands up in disgust. She turned and yet again, the pair was put into an uncomfortable position.

  "Fred, George, mum will have your heads!" Ginny began to shout and ramble, pulling out of the awkward position. "Percy, I swear, if you have anything to do with this!"

  Harry sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching her ramble for a moment, and he thought about the offers that appealed most to him.

  "Ginny, did you know that they want another Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies?"

  Ginny turned sharply and accidentally pushed Harry on his back. "Why would you want anything to do with the Holyhead Harpies? It's traditionally a girls' team."

  Harry grinned; proud of the fact that she couldn't be thrown when it came to Quidditch. "Well, you're fourth in the league, so I figure…"

  "It's only because of our Seeker and—you wouldn't." Ginny's voice was dangerously low, and her stomach shifted slightly on his lower abdomen. "Aren't you some sort of hero or something?"

  "Nothing's like that feeling of flying." Harry murmured, quoting one of Ginny's first American interviews.

  "Are you _trying_ to make my life miserable?" Ginny asked, and suddenly, looking into his unadulterated, pensive stare, she began to notice she was lying on top of him.

  "They're being very quiet, Fred."

  "Don't get angsty, George…they're not done yet."

  "How would I make you miserable? Reveal to the locker room you don't actually wear Loves at home? I'm sure they knew that." Harry said, almost laughing as Ginny rose angrily. "What? You wanted me to find my new purpose."

  "You know, some _people_ had to work really hard and Mr. Billionaire Potter Who Has Saved the World Eight Times most certainly will outshine them, despite how hard they've worked." Ginny snapped, and Harry did the boldest thing off-hours that he had ever done.

  He stole a kiss.

  And that was when all hell broke loose. Ginny smacked him and pushed him to the ground, tearing at his shirt and putting her lips on any bare skin she could find, and Harry did nothing to stop her. In fact, as she straddled his clothed waist, he arched his back and gripped her gently, and they moved at an unbeatable speed.

  Harry's head started to hurt. All the people downstairs—their faces kept flashing in his mind as he and Ginny furiously snogged, getting out all of their frustrations about life. Harry didn't have any purpose any longer, as his primary mission in life since he came into this magical world was to be rid the world of evil and be himself.

  He didn't know who he was anymore.

  Ginny's eyes began to fill with tears as headlines flashed in her head. That's all she seemed to be anymore, as a headline.

  Harry pulled away and looked into Ginny's helpless, tearing eyes, and he pulled her into a hug, ignoring the mat seriously tugging his pants down as they moved. Ginny shook and cuddled into him. He comforted her as she shook some more, ranting about commercial success and tabloids until she was hoarse. He kissed the top of her head and they fell asleep with the same thing on their minds.

  "This can't be right."

  The twins entered not long after and, upon seeing that it seemed everything had gone to plan, exited promptly.

  To be continued.


	4. Trading and Tantrums

Disclaimer: I don't own anything… 

**Dear _The Q's and A's_ Magazine Reader,**

**  Thank you so much for helping make _The Q's and A's_ Magazine the leading magic magazine in England, topping _Young Bachelor's Digest_, _Witch Weekly_, and _Play_ for the first time in its five year circulation! As a bonus, we decided to reward our readers with a special pullout section featuring the hottest gossip in Quidditch and more! Thank you very much for your support and here's to a happy Christmas, a great new year, and more of the latest and greatest reporting in sports from _The Q's and A's_ Magazine!**

**Sincerely,**

**Katie Bell**

Editor-In-Chief 

The British and Irish League End of Year Rank 2003 Compiled by Cho Chang 

**1) ****Appleby Arrows**

**2) ****Montrose Magpies**

**3) ****Puddlemere United**

**4) ****Holyhead Harpies**

**5) ****Tutshill Tornadoes**

**6) ****Kenmare Kestrels**

**7) ****Ballycastle Bats**

**8) ****Pride of Portree**

**9) ****Caerphilly Catapults**

**10) **** Falmouth Falcons**

**11) **** Wimbourne Wasps**

**12) **** Wigtown Wanderers**

**13) **** Chudley Cannons**

**Mid-Season Trades, Acquisitions and Negotiations**

**By Sophia de Medici**

**  Of course, the biggest names in negotiations right now happen to be living under the same roof for the winter hols, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, although players like Viktor Krum and Alex Woo won't be ignored.**

**  Harry Potter has publicly invested an interest in pursuing an abandoned dream of Quidditch, which he chivalrously gave up in the effort to become an Auror during the Second War, as teaching, training and deskwork in general have already proven to bore the Boy Who Lived. Potter released a statement saying that although he was "interested in a few teams…his number one priority is the Ministry as of right now."**

**  Mr. Potter did not, however, say which teams were highest on his list.**

**  Although Ginny Weasley, the Holyhead Harpies' star Chaser, has lead the Harpies to more commercial success than they have seen in sixty years, owls have been intercepted from the Harpies' team manager Roger Davies to the Puddlemere United team captain Oliver Wood, claiming that although the "shining star of the most aesthetically appealing team in the League" pushed merchandise,  "number three team in the League…with a better combination of talented players…featuring excellent chemistry on all sides…is more equipped to handle her commercial success and what it brings."**

**  It seems as if Miss Weasley had not yet been informed, as both teams had nothing to say as of press time.**

**  Viktor Krum, it seems, although he is the pride of his country and his team, being quite the celebrity in Bulgaria and around the world, seems to be interested in traveling to England to play. Krum could not be reached for a comment on the controversial rumors sweeping his countryside.**

**  The Arrows' Keeper Alex Woo has most definitely been dropped from the Appleby team after bewitching a Montrose Magpies Beater with an Unforgivable Curse just minutes prior to a recent match held in Scotland. The Arrows rightfully forfeited while the Magpies found themselves, bound by the League rules, unable to play with full strength. The Arrows, it seems, have lost the security on the top spot in the League, as both they and the Magpies will struggle to find good enough replacements this late into the season. Both teams were disappointed when they were reminded that Viktor Krum, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, the only possibly free players in the League, played Seeker, although Weasley's stronger strength is as a Chaser.**

**FOUR**

  Ginny Weasley was throwing a temper tantrum. Anything green in her room, from sweaters to robes to even plant leaves, were being turned navy blue as she screamed.

  "Was anyone going to tell me?" She demanded. "Christ, this issue has been sitting around the house for a week!"

  "You could have read it yourself." Charlie reasoned gently, nearly being hit by a potted plant.

  "He's such a traitor! I made the bastard cookies!" Ginny shook with anger. Christmas Eve, she had woken up in the arms of Harry Potter and before she could sneak away and forget about their terribly terrific snog, he had awoken and she had to awkwardly make an excuse about having to completely read _The Q's and A's_.

  Which, obviously, she had.

  "Lower your voice, Ginny!" Percy reprimanded. "The children—"

  "The children," Nala, Charlie's wife, began shrilly, "Are outside with Ron and Hermione. The pair should probably get some practice, as Ron is such a horny bugger."

  The mood was instantaneously lightened.

  "Now, quite frankly I think you're all being a little apathetic. What if it was your job? How they were talking about changing you to a mysterious other department when all your loyalties lied in your own, and you thought you had the same reciprocating from them? You'd be equally upset. Now, Ginny, since you have no choice on whether or not they can buy out your contract yet, you better show the Holyhead Harpies that they made a big risk even thinking about selling their biggest star. They relied way too much on your success to claim that it was the very thing biting them in the ass. Join Puddlemere and really bite off a chunk that they can whine about." Nala instructed and Ginny forced a smile. Nala was very similar to Charlie. She had a good sense of humor, a good head on her shoulders, and a heart of gold.

  Slowly, the singles' little guesthouse was emptying and Ginny found herself in a big mess of navy blue. She yawned, tired. She wanted to sleep. It was only afternoon, and the sun was still brightly reflecting off of the snow gleaming almost magically outside.

  Ginny strolled into the house and made herself a cup of tea, Harry and the twins sitting at the kitchen table, deeply immersed in talks of investments and stocks, something Ginny had never found quite interesting. That was what Hermione was for. Hermione faithfully handled Ginny's monetary affairs, and although she personally wouldn't take money for it, she never gave back any of the large lumps of Galleons that would appear in her vault.

  Ginny went back to her room and changed into her favorite pajamas, a pale pink set including a pair of soft cotton pants covered with little Quaffles, and a matching tank top. The tea wasn't helping her sleep.

  She tossed and turned under her soft blanket, her delicate features pinched with discomfort and grief. After five frustrating minutes, she tossed the covers off.

  Ginny returned to the kitchen, the boys having disbanded and Harry passing her silently on his way to the guesthouse and Ginny stared at the door of the ingredients cupboard for some time.

  Her mother would have seriously disapproved. Molly never approved of using potions except for emergencies, such as homegrown remedies to cleaning problems, and health concerns.

  But Molly Weasley, mother of six sons and a daughter, managing to feed, clothe and shelter nine people on a four-person budget, always reprimanded her children and husband for using potions to boost energy, help them sleep, heal a hangover or help them with stress.

  "The way you become a poor excuse for a wizard or witch is when on magic you become dependent." She would always quote Helga Hufflepuff.

  Molly Weasley's philosophy on potions aside, Ginny was a grown girl and had complete access to the potions cupboard.

  So she opened the door and went inside, and almost instantaneously, sank to the floor and began to cry.

  "How could they do this to me? After all I've done, after all that work—" She said sobbingly, choking and hiccupping. Her eyes blinded with tears, she reached for the sleeping potion vial; she had memorized this system by heart.

  As she made her way back to the guesthouse, the potion quickly taking affect, she failed to notice that she clutched the Extra Strength Sleeping Draught vial in her hand.

  A dazed and disoriented Ginny Weasley burst into Harry Potter's room whilst he was changing his soaked robes, having been attacked by Fred and George with snowballs on his way out to the guesthouse.

  Her feet were freezing as a flimsy pair of slippers was the only thing keeping them warm and she climbed into his bed, mumbling something about Puddlemere and Davies and was fast asleep before he could protest.

  The shirtless and fatigued former Gryffindor, who had woken up with a backache and a particularly skittish young woman, had wanted to take a nap.

  "My bed is ocupado." He said suddenly, more to himself than to the tossing figure of his best friend's sister and his former teammate. He noticed with his keen eye that she had a small glass vial clutched in her hand and she was about to crush it.

  Harry crossed the room to pry it from her fingers and it fell to the floor after a struggle. He frowned at the label and the fact that he still clutched the tempestuous redhead's stressed hand, which was already curling tightly around his fingers.

  Harry tested his flexibility and found that he still could flip over the girl without putting his weight on her in the slightest, and he crawled under the covers, still clutching one hand and taking the other.

  He held the small hands in his own and ran his fingers over the knuckles and the palms, soothing her until her hands fell flat.

  Ginny still tossed and turned, and Harry's brow furrowed. She had taken a strong potion and she was obviously asleep, but it wasn't a safe sleep. Ginny was shaking with cold and Harry bent over the side of the bed, digging in his clothes for his wand. He pointed it at her feet and the aggressive stirring from the equally violent redhead stopped, although the tossing did not.

  Harry was starting to get really worried. His bed squeaked quietly with Ginny's stress and tears. The strong redhead began to cry in her sleep and Harry wished she hadn't taken the potion, because it only seemed to have made things worse. His own eyelids were growing heavy and tears began to fill them, and it seemed contagious.

  He had dealt with a case like this before…although he hadn't been the one there, he had just had to solve the problem. An American witch plagued with nightmares had an all too scary dependency on her Death Eater boyfriend until he had to cuddle her to sleep every night just so that she could stay alive—that was how dependent she was on him.

  It wasn't like Harry was trying to kill anyone, so he took the idea and ran with it.

  Gently, he wrapped his arms around the cotton-clad girl, his bare arms touching her bare arms and he held her closer, until she couldn't move properly. He was worried he would break her—that she might stop breathing or something.

  But she was breathing. Stagnantly, at best, but she was breathing, her messy hair ruffling under his chin, her features still tight with pain. He continued holding onto her tightly, his grip gentle but strong all the same. Ginny stopped kicking and her breathing got more regularly, and, without even trying, the pair started to breathe in sync.

  Harry fell asleep to the feeling.

To be continued…


	5. Reunions and Reasons

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything… but perhaps and just maybe…I will soon own an Urban Decay Ink in Illegal…so yeah…**

THE Q'S AND A'S SUBSCRIBERS' EXCLUSIVE By the Hardworking Margarita A. Li It is official, ladies and gets, so stop holding your breath. Ginny Weasley has been traded from the all-female Holyhead Harpies to the dominantly male Puddlemere United, where she will play as their solitary female first string. Viktor Krum took pity on the Chudley Cannons and shall soon be settling into a beautiful house in Southampton while Miss Weasley was seen in the companionship of her friends Kirley Duke and Harry Potter browsing through some houses near St. Andrew's. Harry Potter has gone into talks with the Puddlemere United team to possibly replace their aging Seeker, Benjamin Turner, who, at 55, announced his plans for retirement as soon as Puddlemere could find a suitable replacement. Turner's 17-year-old triplet sons, Jack, Evan and Orlando, are the Chasers of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, while his twin daughters, aged 15, Melody and Stephanie, both play Seeker and Beater, respectively, and his youngest son, Joshua, at 13, is the Gryffindor's Keeper. His youngest daughter, Meagan, is the reserve Beater. 

FIVE 

  "It's nice, but it's not London." Kirley commented dryly and both Harry and Ginny smacked him on his head consecutively. "What? Ginny-girl, you're not going to survive out here."

  "It's called the Floo, and besides, we're near Hogsmeade." Ginny said as they followed Daphne Greengrass, a former Slytherin that had been in Harry's year, through the house. It was such a lovely place, with a huge upstairs patio, a master suite the size of Kirley's apartment in New York City, a guest suite, a humongous living room, large kitchen, large dining room and spacious outdoor patio and pool. The foyer alone was amazing. The house was done up in dark, jewel tones and rich woods, and some of the rooms were already furnished. The third floor had recently been added to include a study and spacious entertainment room, in addition to a bright conservatory with classic cream-colored tiles and exotic and classic flowers already blooming. 

  "What'd you make on your advance?" Harry asked quietly as they went back downstairs.

  "Enough to buy this place. I'm keeping the London place open for rent partially furnished, so there's more money, and then there are my ad campaigns, and Ron and Alicia have sued the Holyhead Harpies individually, one for breach of contract, which I'll benefit from, and one for breach of League rules, which will mean bonuses for everyone in the department. You?" Ginny seemed bored and her voice was flat. She sat down at the sensually curved dining room table and signed a few different pages.

  Harry honestly didn't know. His try-out for the United was in one week and he was still living out of a suitcase in London.

  Fortunately, Ginny wasn't letting him answer. "I'm just leaving the kitchen and most of the bathroom, alright, Kirley?"

  Harry sat down at the dining room table while Kirley took directions. Kirley happened to have been one hell of a business manager. Ginny ordered her living room and study to be sent over last, while her Quidditch things, bedroom and bathroom things were to be sent over first. Everything else could come along any time between.

  "I'm staying at Hogwarts while my house is being settled." Ginny said suddenly, turning to Harry. "Surely you're not going to make the commute from London over here every morning."

  Harry listened to the sound of her tired voice, noting there was an invitation in there.

  "Go up to the conservatory and send out an owl to Dumbledore. I'm sure arrangements can be made. I'm speaking to the fifth years about pursuing a career in Quidditch and spokes-modeling." Ginny added, rolling her eyes. "How exciting. You'd think they'd somehow find something more interesting for me to do."

  Harry smirked, and he stood up, beginning the two-flight walk up to the conservatory.

  Harry was dazed. Everything had happened so fast since he'd arrived home. In a month, he had managed to get a Puddlemere try-out, a place in Ginny's life, and quite possibly, a place in her house.

  "Fifth through seventh years, please put your hands together for Katie Bell, Daphne Greengrass, Harry Potter, Alicia Spinnet, Ginny Weasley and Lisa Turpin for Hogwarts' second annual Career Days!" Professor McGonagall announced happily, quite pleased that four of the day's prestigious guests were from Gryffindor. "First, Katie Bell, the editor-in-chief of the popular sports magazine _The Q's and A's_ will speak about how to break into journalism and tomorrow she will speak in a smaller session to interested students. After that, Daphne Greengrass, the head of the England Small Business Council, will speak to you about entrepreneurship, and she too will have a smaller session tomorrow. Harry Potter, one of the Ministry's top Aurors, will speak to you about Ministry opportunities. Alicia Spinnet, the head of the British and Irish Quidditch League Draft, will speak to you about your options there, and following her, Ginny Weasley will speak to you about Quidditch and self-promotion, and Lisa Turpin will follow up with the possibilities offered at Gringotts. All private sessions are arranged during first and second blocks."

  Ginny tried her hardest to smile, sitting between her brother's boss and her former teammate, Alicia and a girl who had been in Charms club with her and who had trained under her brother Bill, Lisa. The fifth, sixth and seventh years were buzzing. Everyone who was anyone knew every single person on the panel, and each student looked eager. There seemed to be over four hundred students gathered in the Great Hall, and Ginny's eyes began to droop.

  Kirley, Harry and Ginny had gone out to some of Hogsmeade's hottest new clubs the previous night and both panelists looked sleepy.

  Girls began to buzz about the possibility that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's kiss, as photographed in _The Q's and A's_, _Witch Weekly_, _Young Bachelor's Digest_ and other publications, wasn't just a one-time thing.

  Jack, Evan, James, Melody and Stephanie Turner sat in a little pack near the front of the Great Hall grinning. They were the kind of people that were constantly consulted after magazine articles were printed, especially now that Ginny Weasley was on their father's team. Everyone knew that tonight, the five and their two younger siblings, were going to have supper at Ginny Weasley's house for a house-warming party, and that the photographs were going to be in every magazine internationally.

  Jack caught Harry's eye and Harry winked. Jack was the eldest by nearly six hours, and he had the keenest eye of the triplets. He jerked his head in Ginny's direction and Harry noticed that Ginny was asleep.

  He, however, was fascinated in Katie's work, combining the girly tendencies Oliver used to pick on when they'd strip down after a practice or a game with the hardcore and intense passion for the game Katie possessed within the depths of her soul.

  Each speaker was allowed twenty minutes, and soon, Katie's were up. Next was Daphne, who proved to be very cunning but far more diplomatic and less spoiled than her Slytherin contemporaries.

  Ginny woke up just as Alicia was briefly adding how legal logic was often times necessary to climb to the top, as the rules are often broken. Alicia looked down at the drowsy Ginny and pointedly added how even the best and top-grossing players can often have their contracts broken because of egos and budgets, and suffer more by breaking these contracts, as they are not only bound to the player, but to the League.

  Ginny did not wake up in a good mood. She stood and began speaking about how a lingering visit to Gladrag's landed her the first modeling offer and how often times, _Witch Weekly_ and _Young Bachelor's Digest_ are looking for interesting people and will say so in the back of certain issues. Other ways for exposure are haunting your places of interest, taking jobs there, and looking for performance opportunities any time. Including charity with your work gets you a bigger chance to get recognized.

  But Ginny's pace picked up when she began talking about Quidditch, how the average age of retirement was mid-fifties, and how training and reserve jobs can last six months to six years.

  "All players have advertising opportunities individually or as groups. When you think about different prospects, you need to think about what your fans would be attracted to, what your team would think, and whether or not the campaign is for you. Only after that can you consider personal financial risks. Remember, you always need to be paid for these campaigns, whether with their products, services, money, or a combination." Her voice was dragging and she knew she'd have tougher questions tomorrow. "But your primary concern should always be your game."

  That had been her primary concern, and she'd been humiliated in front of the entire nation. "There will be things out of your control, and you'll naturally make mistakes. But if you manage yourself well, you'll be able to do what you love, wear what you like, eat what you like, do what you like—and when you're ready to quit, you'll be able to do so in peace."

  Melody's heart cried out to the poor Chaser, who looked like a wilting flower. People clapped as she sat down.

  "I was horrible." Ginny wailed, lying on her back on Stephanie's bed. "I really should've have had that extra Pepper-Up this morning."

  "Oh, don't say that." Stephanie cooed, flipping through different bright colored toga style dresses. "You're tired, and everyone knows how hard the past week has been for you."

  "Oh, great." Ginny muttered. "I need to go home and get ready. Kirley is trying to throw a real London couture party and I keep trying to tell him it's not London…you'd think he was a puff or something."

  Stephanie and Melody watched Ginny leave, muttering something about complete humiliation and lack of sleep.

  Margarita Li was tired as well when she arrived at the massive Scotland house she had Apparated to. She walked up the circular cobblestone driveway to the front doors, which were open in anticipation for the evening's guests. Robes and cloaks were being taken at the door, and as she slipped her own golden cloak off, she noticed many of the glittering names she often penned of.

  Her strapless, full skirted, nude-lined black lace dress caught the wandering eye of the eldest of the Turner triplets, Jack, and he walked over to her with a goofy grin on his face. "Why hello, Miss Li, how lovely to see you again."

  The foyer was bustling with people. The entire of the Puddlemere United team, including their reserves, managers, trainers, healers, coaches and so on, were here, in addition to the entire line-up of the Weird Sisters, including Kirley McCormack-Duke, who had planned the whole she-bang, his sister Meghan and his mother Catriona, Ginny's agents and managers, and her favorite representatives of the companies she modeled for, her family and all of their litter, other magazine representatives and photographers, Margarita's own photographer, Ginny's ex-boyfriends, Benjamin Turner's brood of children, everybody's dates, and a small sprinkling of Ginny's other close friends. All in all, there had to have been over one hundred and fifty people in attendance, and everyone was going crazy.

  The popular colors of the night were most definitely scarlet, blue and gold. The entire of the Puddlemere United team and all of their dates and children had managed to pull off blue or gold, and everyone else had tried to kept to scarlet, blue or gold, and Meghan Duke, Kirley's sister, who played for a team with deep purple and gold robes, remained neutral in a lovely light gold satin dress, if not looking a little nervous, being the only non-Puddlemere player at the party.

  The presents were piled onto a lovely Queen Anne's table in the foyer, nearly reaching the second floor.

  Margarita had grown up fairly wealthy and had toured France, Spain, America, Mexico, Italy, Switzerland, Austria and England by the time she had turned eighteen. Her mother was the American Head of the Magical Games and Sports Department and her father played for the best American Quidditch team, of the six. Her younger sister Amanda was Ginny's age, and was managing the Quidditch team on her own, and her youngest siblings, Sofia and Oscar, were currently beginning their schooling in America, the eagerest and most athletic and boisterous of their year.

  Kirley Duke had pulled her aside to explain how the seating arrangements had been made. Names were divided into several groups, such as reporters, athletes, friends, musicians and business managers. And then, fifteen different bowls were made to put one from each group and their dates, if they R.S.V.Ped for one, until it was fair and square.

  Margarita eyed Kirley suspiciously. "Duke, I've known you since you were shoving your dirty nappies into your sister's hair."

  Meghan smiled. "He hasn't stopped."

  Kirley shot his sister a dirty look. "What exactly are you trying to imply, Miss Li?" He asked, turning on the charm for his old friend. 

  "Why on earth would you be explaining this if you hadn't put me at some horrible table with yucky cheese and an old boyfriend?" Margarita asked, her hands on her hips. Kirley didn't answer, and Margarita needed at least a whole paragraph from Ginny, in addition to a few lines from friends and new teammates.

  She walked towards the redheaded money making machine, and took in her appearance. Margarita had learned to write faster than anyone she knew, because she hated the Quick Quotes Quill, having been misquoted herself many a time during her more scandalous, spoiled heiress years. She reached into her hairdo and stealthily pulled out a scroll and unfurled it flat with her wand.

  Quickly, she penned, "Kirley Duke threw a fabulous party at Ginny Weasley's enormous new Scotland estate to break in the new place and to soothe the pain of national humiliation, not that Miss Weasley looked it at all. Even in the loosely populated area of Scotland where Miss Weasley's new home lies, precautions were taken to ensure no Muggle saw the robed glitterati of the magical set. Thus, skin was shown and what a fabulous party was thrown."

  "Tell me, Miss Li, since you seem to be such a fashionista, precisely why does it seem like I've walked into a lingerie store every time I go to a party?" The familiar and soft Scottish drawl made Margarita jolt up instantaneously. She didn't reply, but just went on to describe the thin, pale pink silk slip dress Ginny wore, with a black lace choker barely holding up on account of the ruby that hung from it.

  "Oh, Miss Li, you wouldn't happen to be holding the awkward actions as an adolescent against an athlete, would you?" Damn, damn, damn. He'd used alliteration, and one thing she'd always loved about his voice was the way it sounded when he used alliteration. Call her strange, but she was a journalist who was a sucker for accents.

  "Damn you." Margarita murmured, turning and almost smacking right into him, not realizing that he had been leaning over her bent form while she had been writing.

  Oliver Wood smiled down at the second girl he'd ever really _noticed_. Margarita had been a year younger than he had been during the World Cup Semi-Finals, and her father had been a competitor, just like he had been. Unfortunately for Oliver, Margarita's father's team had advanced and Puddlemere, representing England, had not, but in the long run, Oliver had become a fan of the team, and he followed them to the World Cup. Margarita had just graduated and having calmed down from when they had initially met at a World Cup in France; Margarita was drinking, using and having a gay old time, while Oliver, a naïve sixteen, couldn't understand why anybody would do that—they formed an odd friendship. She, the former darling of the tabloids, who had just turned to journalism as her escape, and he, the newest cute face of the sports magazines, who had always found Quidditch to be so intoxicating, he needn't have an escape.

  Both were inescapably attractive to the other; Oliver with his rugged good looks and supposed oblivion to the opposite sex, the same sex, or any sex for that matter, and Margarita with her exotic good looks, her secretive smile, and her worn-in dancing shoes that had tread on some of the world's hottest dance spots and her contradictory need to be a homebody.

  But they were on different paths. Oliver had never experienced the world outside of Quidditch, or even the one surrounding it, and Margarita had been to hell and back. Oliver had needed someone who was willing to experiment with him until he could feel worthy of her, and Margarita had needed to settle into being an adult before she could tell him she wasn't worthy of him.

  An odd romance.

  "Damn me? Well, I suppose if that's the reason why everybody's out in their lingerie at formal parties, then…well, I'd like to say the straight male population should each give their right testicle to me, but what on earth would I do with them all?" He loved being taller than her. He was half a head taller than she was and he loved it. Oliver felt that he could protect her better; he felt that he could intimidate the lingering stares away—he felt more worthy of her.

  "Make them into sinfully disgusting toys and sell them to Catholic schoolgirls?" Margarita countered softly, unsure of how to speak to him now. It'd been so long.

  "Naughty, naughty…weren't you a Catholic school girl? Snorting cocaine or whatever it is up your pretty little nose and drinking rum and coke out of glass bottles in Tijuana?" Oliver asked, drawing her into a hug. "I hope you kept the uniform, kinky love."

  Margarita loved it when he tried to say Spanish words.

  "Oliver, you pedophile!" Harry Potter called to him and Oliver turned his head around to see a crowd of his old Quidditch teammates from his school days gathered near the fireplace. Margarita's face fell. She was starting to compromise herself merely because she was flirting with one of Britain's top bachelors, who happened to be an athlete, and it was her job to write of these little ditties of information that nobody but old women and young women really cared about.

  But, unexpectedly, Oliver scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the alumni of former Gryffindor Quidditch players. 

   "Ladies." Oliver said, motioning to everyone. They all laughed and Oliver set Margarita down on her feet properly. Margarita noted that Ginny Weasley's delicate fingers clutched a crystal champagne flute nearly transparent with glittering liquid, but it's glitter didn't match that of the huge ruby pendant dragging down the thin strip of black lace around Ginny's throat. Her silky hair fell in thick tapers to her shoulders.

  "Lovely pendant." Margarita said, smiling, and the chatter dimmed to a low volume quickly and awkwardly.

  "Thank you." Ginny replied graciously. "It was a present."

  The others could see the gears turning in Margarita's head. It was obviously a present from one of the group, as Ginny's flawless ivory skin began to color. Only the Weasley twins, Oliver or Harry could have purchased it for her, and since Oliver was pulling her comfortably close, and her own brothers couldn't possibly have made her blush the way she did.

  Fortunately, Kirley began tapping on a champagne flute with a fork, and the party had to break up into tables.

  Ginny found herself sandwiched between Harry and Kirley, and uncomfortably, at that. Margarita wasn't fairing too well, between Oliver and Luna Lovegood.

  "Little Ginny is a strong girl. I know it, because this one time, I called her a harpy, and not in a good way, and she decked me. I was out for three days." Kirley began, pausing to relish the laughter. "Gin has been so lucky to receive so many talents. Her business sense and her daring have helped her out since she haggled over prices in Diagon Alley to stealing her brother's brooms and practicing at night. When she was fourteen, oppression at Hogwarts School nearly prevented her friends and all those who knew what was right from protecting Hogwarts; from protecting, England."

  Harry's fingers gently clutched Ginny's wrist, and he could feel it heating up.

  "Most of the press doesn't like to mention any of this. Gin started out in a great family; this loving, large and boisterous family where anyone could've gotten lost in the crowd. But her family was not only loving, large and boisterous; but also accomplished. Her eldest brother was a Head Boy and moved on to become a curse-breaker at Gringotts, her brother Charlie was one of the best athletes Hogwarts had ever seen and became a dragon handler in Romania, and her brother Percy became Head Boy and moved on to be one of the fastest rising Ministry employees ever. Her playful brothers, Fred and George, were known 'as a pair of Bludgers themselves', and their entrepreneurship and their love of pranks created one of the most popular joke companies ever. Ron's struggle to become a great Quidditch player and his knack for chess began his road to the Quidditch League draft. And of course, her loving parents, Molly, a housewife with a steady hand, loving nature and strong endurance and Arthur, a hardworking Ministry official who always did what was right, even though it wasn't profitable."

  The Weasley family beamed at one another. Kirley had always longed for a place in the Weasley family; as his was, though loving, small and disconnected. When he and Ginny had split up, he was thrilled that she liked him as a friend, which meant he could have any of the Weasleys over for tea at any given time.

  "Most of the press would like to pretend that Ginny was just a little girl who started off wrong, failing to mention her first year on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she replaced Harry Potter, one of the finest Seekers Hogwarts had ever seen, because of the oppressive Ministry rule over Hogwarts. They'd like to start her off, usually, as a fifteen-year-old beauty on a broomstick, making her life seem simple and glamorous. But it wasn't. Ginny struggled with keeping up with the current events, which she was already involved in, had an on-and-off boyfriend in her house, had to keep her stellar grades up, play Quidditch and serve as a prefect. She and artist Dean Thomas finally called it quits after the Quidditch Cup when Ginny finally realized she couldn't take on anymore.

  "That summer, Ginny searched for a job in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, as she eventually wanted to move up to London for the Quidditch League Draft try-outs. There, she ended up meeting who was about to become seventh year Blaise Zabini. The pair knew each other from school and the model and Ginny had sizzling chemistry. Unfortunately, at the time, Blaise was looking for an accessory and Ginny wasn't looking for a relationship. For some odd months, they continued their charade, until Blaise finally and accidentally snagged her a break with a modeling job and the pair figured out they weren't what the other needed.

  "Ginny's sixth year. Memorable as the year of the defeat of Voldemort. Ginny disarmed his right hand, Bellatrix Black-Lestrange, and Harry got to avenge his beloved godfather, the framed Sirius Black, murdered with his cousin's own wand. As Harry and Ginny and their friends wearily walked through the streets of London on their way back to Hogwarts, not wanting to be picked up by the Knight Bus until they were in Diagon Alley, there was something more than magical between everyone—there was a bond unbreakable by time.

  "The next year, Ginny was on her own with close friend Luna Lovegood as the Insomnia ads began to surface. Her brother Ron warned her that she, as of the middle of her last year, she had better start looking more of a Quidditch athlete than a supermodel if she wanted the Draft to look at her. Ginny followed his advice and she was added to the Harpies' reserve team. She added another pair of modeling contracts to her belt, and a notch to it—me."

  Ginny tried not to blanche at the sight of Kirley's pensive pause.

  "It ended when Ginny's position as a reserve ended and her career escalated. Another rocker entered into her life and exited with the Harpies' downfall at the League Cup that year. Quidditch became an all-absorbing thing to Ginny. She was devoted to the Harpies. She ended another happy relationship with another member of the League who happened to be matched against her in the All-Star League Play-Offs for the National Team. While Ginny played better than he did, his team won.

  "This year, in the middle of the season, Ginny was dropped from the Harpies based upon her teammates' jealousy of Ginny's success on and off the field, in business and in life. While this betrayal was upsetting, the comforting arms of the team she was traded to consoled her more than the money ever could, and she moved in here.

  "Welcome to a new chapter, Ginny Weasley. You've been secretly training, secretly starring, secretly more successful than any magazine could say, and now, you're not so secretly stronger, and better, now that you're here, with Puddlemere, surrounded by all your friends and family, and, hell, some journalists too, and you deserve every bit of it."

  Everyone applauded and stood, and Ginny struggled to keep the tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Kirley. Thank you so much. Thank you, everyone, for coming here today and comforting me for the past few weeks. It's been tough, but I know I'll be happier in the Puddlemere family than I ever was with the Harpies. Now tuck in!" Ginny clapped her hands, and the lazy Susans began to twirl, filled with good food.

  "So…" Margarita began, as the table began to empty when the music began to play. "How's Katie?"

  "Married." Oliver answered, showing Margarita his left hand. No ring. "We broke up last year."

  Margarita nodded. She should've known that. "You okay with that?"

  Oliver smiled and nodded. "Kate and I had a great time, and we outgrew each other."

  "You talk about yourselves as if you were Quidditch uniforms." She murmured uncomfortably, leaning over the empty table sadly.

  "You know I grew up, right?" Oliver asked softly, scooting closer to her.

  "You know I never needed you to, right?" Margarita replied, and Oliver brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

  "I know you didn't." Oliver managed, whispering in the ear he'd just grazed with his fingers. "But…I couldn't live being with you if I felt incomplete, because it wouldn't be your fault—you complete me."

  The faint tinkling of the piano. A masculine hand with long, thin fingers lovingly placed on the small of a pale pink silk back. Hands clutched. Sleekly dressed bodies swaying together, pressed together, a pale, manicured hand on the shoulder of a blue dress shirt, closing the space between them.

  "Thank you." Ginny whispered. "For the gift. It was very nice…I mean, it is very nice."

  Harry nodded, his cheek brushing hers. "Have I found a purpose?"

  Ginny's features wrinkled, and she pushed a little on his shoulder to separate their bodies a little. "What?"

  "You yelled at me…before Christmas. About not having a purpose." Harry said, his brilliant green eyes meeting hers, a trickle of fear melting into their cold look.

  "I can't answer that question." She told him, her voice getting a little louder.

  "Why? Is it because you don't think I really want the Puddlemere position?" Harry asked, his tone too getting louder and a little weak all at the same time.

  "I can't answer that question because you're the only one to know if you have a purpose, a new one, anyhow." Ginny told him, flushing, and closing the space between them, forcing him to whisper.

  "But you could tell me I had no purpose." He muttered and she stepped back.

  "I didn't know you took me so seriously, and it was so obvious, Harry, that you were merely on this earth in the physical, because all your life since you became a Hogwarts student was determined to keep your friends, your family—everybody safe from an enemy greater than ever. And that was a great purpose. But it's been so long since we've not had to deal with something like this none of us know how to function, yet alone those whose entire lives have revolved around fighting the powers of evil. You were just so lost, Harry, and now, I wouldn't know! You can't expect me to pass an opinion about you when I barely _know_ you." Ginny broke off as the song changed to a fast minuet. "Harry, only you can decide whether what you're doing is making you happy. I can only observe when you're unhappy, because that's usually the only time I see you unguarded."

  Ginny wandered back into the crowd, leaving Harry on the dance floor.


	6. The Socks Don't Match, Love

Disclaimer: If I really owned the Harry Potter phenomenon, why would I be dousing it out for free?

**GINNY WEASLEY HOUSEWARMING PARTY DRAMATIC AND TOUCHING**

**By Margarita A. Li**

**SIX**

  Margarita sat at her desk, unsure of what to write. Charm, talent, good looks, athletic obsession, League connections; each journalist at _The Q's and A's_ had these. What many of them had forgotten in their years of struggling to become a name the readers were addicted to was their integrity. Everybody had it. 

   B.B. Finley, a redheaded Irish girl who was known primarily as Finley, was brought up by her uncle and aunt in a nice part of Belfast, with money, talent, intelligence, athletic obsession and feisty sex appeal. She was dedicated to her work, and had an on-and-off relationship with the owner of the Appleby Arrows, the striking Patrick Cadell.

  A.J. Lubbock, an African-American who had grown up on Quodpot, as Margarita had found herself forced to be interested in while schooling in the States, was the son of an athletic shop owner back in Lafayette, Louisiana, and his sharp sense of dress and his adorably stupid, puppy-dog like charm won over many of the executives at athletic companies across England, and he loved freebies more than anything else in the world.

  Sophia de Medici, an Italian girl with parentage working for Gringotts since the beginning of the bank, had pale skin and dark hair and a keen business sense that basically said, "Don't fuck with me." She was entirely absorbed in her work and her intimidating stature required no charm to get her stories. Her father had purchased four top box tickets at every World Cup for the rest of time—not an inexpensive feat. Reportedly, the amount of Galleons it took to pay for the tickets annually was in the thousands. And traveling to the obscure locations where the World Cup wasn't cheap, either.

  Cho Chang, although sweet and intelligent, was not devoted to _The Q's and A's_. She worked for the League office and, on account of never being offered a regular column, was always fairly miffed and would easily sell a story to _The Witch Weekly_ over _The Q's and A's_ if they offered just a Knut more.

  Unfortunately, she had also been invited to the housewarming party and she would willingly dish out what Margarita failed to. Fortunately, she didn't have a photographer with her.

  "Summerby!" Margarita exclaimed, poking her head out of her office. Margarita was the most featured writer at _The Q's and A's_, and her office was the same size as the associate editor's. "Do you have those photos yet?"

  "In a slump, Li?" Finley asked almost nicely. 

  It was common practice for the staff of _The Q's and A's_ to base their stories on the information illustrated by Summerby's images.

  "Yeah, something like that." She answered, trying to keep the pained tone out of her voice.

  "Don't beat your head against a wall, Maggie." A.J. told her with a grin, leaning back out of his (rather large) cubicle. "We all have trouble sometimes."

  "Yeah, but we're not all the star reporters, now are we?" Cho asked with a sniff.

  "And it's usually not the first issue of the year that we have trouble with. I mean, it's so simple, Maggie." Sophia said in an oily tone, her upper lip curling up to the hook of her long nose. "Just do an overview of everything this year. Highlights and the lowlights of 2003. I mean, honestly."

  "Some of us have more talent than others, Soph." A.J. retorted coldly, his eyes narrowed.

  "And some of us wouldn't stoop to such desperate measures just to get published." Finley added. "Summerby!"

  Margarita smiled appreciatively at A.J. and Finley, leaning in the doorway of her office. _The Q's and A's_ office was on the third floor of a building in Diagon Alley, next to Quality Quidditch Supplies ironically.

  Summerby finally showed up, with each of his photos in plastic wrap. "Come on, now, Li."

  Margarita turned into her office and Summerby closed the door behind him.

  "Alright, so we have a photo of Kirley McCormack-Duke giving a speech, all the people waiting for the elevator, focusing mainly on Catriona and Meghan McCormack-Duke in their golden robes. We have a picture of Charlie, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny Weasley, chatting it up with our own Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Harry Potter. We have Benjamin Turner and his brood talking with some of Ginny's business managers. We have Michael Corner and Luna Lovegood chatting over dinner, and then we've got—"

  Margarita admired each of the photos as Summerby tossed them down in front of her on her desk until he came to the one of her and Oliver talking after dinner before the conversation got intimate.

  "You've got to include it, Maggie." Summerby said after Margarita was silent for a moment, horrified at the image.

  "Why?" She asked, rolling her chair over to her typewriter, where she hadn't begun the article.

  "Because he's one of the top bachelors in the country and frankly, let's face it, the glitterati side of this business is what you always end up reporting on." Summerby told her frankly, sitting back in one of her leather wing chairs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Come on, Maggie, you can't be agonizing over the legitimacy of it all; no one has to know what you were talking about."

  "It's an invasion of _my_ privacy, Summerby." Maggie answered coolly, beginning to type.

  "Your whole career is an invasion of somebody's privacy, particularly Ginny Weasley's, because let's face it, she provides the most juice!" Summerby shouted, standing up abruptly. "You can't make exceptions, Maggie, you know that! If you made exceptions before, you'd be out there in a bloody crap cubicle just like the rest of us! You're ruthless, remember?"

  "No, I'm dignified!" Maggie retorted, stopping at the first sentence of her article.

  "Don't tell me Duke's crap speech got to you too!" Summerby continued.

  "This volatility doesn't seem to be directed at me anymore, John." Maggie replied quietly after a moment.

  "Are you shitting me?" Summerby demanded in a high-pitched voice. "I could give a flying Kneazle!"

  "It was a dream, wasn't it? Lead photographer with the lead reporter. Would've been such a beautiful team outside the office, but it didn't work, Summerby, and you can't punish me by forcing me to publish a slice of my life." Maggie said calmly.

  "So you're saying there _is_ something between you and—" He spat the name, "Wood?"

  "No, I didn't say that." Maggie turned her eyes back to the typewriter and began again. "Besides, Katie's not going to like it."

  "Katie's the one who told me to make sure it got in." Summerby snapped finally. "Make it in, or you're suspended."

  Summerby stormed out of her office and Maggie's eyes, huge and welling with tears, slowly pulled upwards to see Katie Bell talking to Cho, anxiously looking towards Maggie every few seconds.

  Maggie rose to close the curtains of her office and began to cry.

  Ginny Weasley rose for an early morning practice, not bothering to shower knowing that Oliver's tyranny would just get her dirty all over again, and was surprised to see that Harry was sitting in her kitchen, reading a magazine and eating a bagel.

  "You're right." He said a few awkward moments later, as she prepared a complete breakfast of ham, cereal, milk, a grapefruit, an egg and a carrot.

  "Am I?" She asked, beginning to tuck in, relishing the salty goodness of the ham.

  Harry put down the article, which featured full color, moving photos. "I am—I have been miserable around you for the majority of the time that I've ever really talked to you. So you of all people would know when I am miserable."

  Ginny's eye caught on a photo of Oliver and the reporter, Margarita.

  "And I have a purpose." Ginny looked up at him, her mouth full and her eyes questioning. "Quidditch was the only activity that kept me from thinking of my troubles—everybody's troubles. I missed it so much during the Triwizard Tournament, and I missed it even more when I was suspended from it. I missed my friends and Quidditch when I was away, and now that I don't have a legal obligation to worry about everybody else's troubles—"

  "Even though you'll continue to anyhow." Ginny said affectionately, trying to subtly take in her entire bowl of cereal in one gulp.

  Harry smiled. "Right. Well, now that I don't have a legal obligation to worry about everybody's troubles, I can get back to the one thing that made me forget it all." He gulped. "This is what I really want to do, Gin." ****

**GINNY WEASLEY HOUSEWARMING PARTY DRAMATIC AND TOUCHING**

**By Margarita A. Li**

**It almost seemed like a who's who in the League, ladies' companies, publishing, and in Ginny Weasley's heart. Over a hundred and fifty people showed up for Ginny Weasley's housewarming party at her new estate in Scotland, including the entire of the Puddlemere United team, friends, family, ex-boyfriends, managers and representatives of the companies she works for.**

**The guests waited in the gigantic, sophisticated yet oddly comforting foyer to take turns up the elevator, a Muggle installment similar to the process of entering the Ministry of Magic's office. Mother and sister of Ginny's close friend Kirley Duke, both Catriona and Meghan McCormack-Duke of the Portree Prides, were among the honored guests who might have felt out of place at the Puddlemere-dominated party. _(See Photo 1 of Catriona and Meghan McCormack-Duke.)_**

**Family and friends caught up like a reunion in Ginny's massive dining room, which was sectioned into fifteen tables of some of the most glittering names in England. _(See Photo 2 of Weasley brothers Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron with sister Ginny, Harry Potter, our editor-in-chief Katie Bell, the head of the League Draft, Alicia Spinnet, and the manager of Puddlemere United, Angelina Johnson.)_ I was lucky enough to sit next to the reigning bachelor of England, Oliver Wood. _(See Photo 3 of yours truly and Oliver Wood._)**

**Kirley McCormack-Duke planned and broke in the party with a lovely and heartwarming speech about Ginny's humble but loving roots, including many of the things the press often leaves out. By doing so, we all felt closer to Ginny, and soon, she could possibly be named 'Quidditch Sweetheart of 2003'. **

  Oliver winced, putting down the article. Definitely one of Maggie's worst. She had written better pieces when she was fourteen. Harry sat down next to Oliver, both freshly-showered.

  "Yeah, it's kind of sad, isn't it?" Harry asked quietly, twiddling his thumbs. "I mean, I kept _up_ with the Quidditch news through her in the States. She's a legend there, too, but for different reasons."

  Oliver let out a hollow laugh. "Don't I know it."

  "There's something awry here, Oliver." Harry said, getting up when Ginny entered, looking a bit distracted.

  "Good work today, team." Oliver muttered, ducking his head and exiting.

  "I'm disappointed, Li." Katie said, and Maggie looked up from the article she had been reading. Katie Bell stood in the doorway of her office, looking saddened.

  "Yeah, I know." Came the hollow reply. Katie looked around Maggie's office and noticed a few of her things had come down. Perhaps in a bitter rage, Katie didn't know.

  Katie and Maggie had never really been close. Maggie had begun working at _The Q's and A's_ at the same time Katie had. Making the freelance and famous sports reporter Margarita Li a regular columnist of the new magazine guaranteed the kind of readers the magazine's owner wanted. And that meant Katie would have to put up with her.

  Personally, Katie didn't have very much to hate Maggie for. By the time Maggie had begun working at _The Q's and A's_, Oliver had already begun dating Katie, a dream that had followed Katie from Hogwarts. The rumors of Maggie and Oliver had long since past, and it was so short-lived it was nearly insignificant—until Katie noticed the comfort between the pair when they had run into each other near Maggie's then office—a cubicle, and the suspicious distance between Katie and her boyfriend to follow. They had _had_ two and half years of experimental sex, long distances, romantic reunions, pregnancy scares, meeting the parents, running into exes, and rumors of Oliver's infidelity—they'd survived it all and Katie had been convinced that they were going to work.

  Until she saw the kind of chemistry between Maggie and Oliver off the field that Katie had thought Oliver could only have on the field. Katie had pulled out all stops, from sexy to romantic, but after six months, it was clear that things weren't going well, and they broke off quietly.

  And Katie was surprised that if felt good. The six months that the relationship had gone dwindling out of existence had actually helped her. She did not need a rebound, she did not need help, and she could actually have a strong friendship with Oliver. No strings attached. So when she met Mark and got the complete devotion that she needed, with the same level of experience, they hit it off instantly, and Katie had thought she had gotten over her crush on Oliver for good.

  So all bitterness towards her star reporter had been dropped, until she had heard that exotic touch to an American accent being forced to be friendly with some of Katie's best friends…like a new girlfriend running into the crowd at the market. So when she'd seen that photo…she'd made a mistake.

  Namely, she'd invaded her ex-boyfriend, ex-teammate and close friend's privacy. Secondly, Katie had crossed the thin line between good gossip about Quidditch and plain good gossip—which, ironically, wasn't good for you at all. In addition, she had intentionally done so to hurt her star reporter. And lastly, Katie had lost a scrap of dignity.

  While Katie had been contemplating this, she noticed that Maggie had pretty much packed up most of her belongings.

  "I'm sorry. It was an immature thing to do." Katie said finally, as Maggie shrank boxes to be taken to her flat.

  Maggie nodded. "Yes it was."

  "I'm over him, you know." Katie added a bit stubbornly. "It just—"

  "Hurt?" Maggie asked coldly.

  "Yeah." Katie whispered, looking off to the side.

  "Yeah, well, you aren't the only one." Maggie muttered. "Do you have anything else to say?"

  "Look, everyone has a bad article once in a while…" Katie trailed off, and she began to get frustrated. She wasn't a bad person, so why was it so hard for Margarita to accept her apology? "Look, it's not like you need the money anyway, aren't you rich?"

  "Damn it, Katie, it's not the money!" Maggie shrieked, finally losing her cool. "Katie, if it was about the money, if it was about the article, good GOD, I would just be looking for another job and that'd be it. But it's more than that. My boss betrayed me by intentionally setting me up to put my life in the limelight. I'm not one of your other bloodsucking columnists—I've been there, I've done that, and I don't want to be in this because I'm Oliver Wood's WHATEVER! Because that's what it would be. She writes one bad article and yet she stays on because of her connections—I CAN'T STAY LIKE THAT.  Say I publish another bad article. Everyone who's anyone in this business will think back to that article and I will be the one hanging by a string called Oliver Wood." Maggie reached for the latch of her owl's cage. "And don't think it wouldn't be like that, Kate."

  Katie gulped. "I'll have some recommendation letters drawn up then."

  Maggie met Katie's eyes sadly. "Thank you. I'm sorry it had to end this way."

  Katie nodded. "I am too."

  Ginny, Oliver, Harry and a Puddlemere Beater named Alex walked into the Three Broomsticks, noting the slow comings and goings. "I made sure it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend," Alex told them, "My sister is a seventh year up at the school, and some of her little friends are probably here anyway."

  Rosmerta was tickled that they'd come to visit the Three Broomsticks, as Oliver was known for dodging the press, and Alex usually took to meals in London when he was hungry. They got a nice table in the dark and began to discuss life in general.

  "I'd really like to tap into the Turner brood, but we don't _need_ three Chasers, nor do we need a new Seeker, or a new Keeper, and I have too much chemistry with Natalie." Alex said as the other three ordered drinks.

  "Yes, they'd be magnificent on a team, but they're a bit green…put them on the Wanderers, or something, they need the marketing." Ginny drawled, and they all laughed.

  "Too bad Li doesn't work with _The Q's and A's_ anymore, else they'd have a hell of a publicist." Harry added, and Oliver, who had been staring off into space, became more alert.

  "What?" He asked, leaning forward.

  "Didn't you hear, Wood?" Alex asked with a confused scowl. "Your little girlfriend quit the magazine this morning."

  "She's not my girlfriend." Oliver replied in a hollow voice.

  "Whatever. She and Katie Bell had a huge row this morning, and oddly enough, it wasn't about the quality of the writing." Alex shrugged. "She's looking at working for either the Prophet or her sister's team, the All-Stars."

  "You mean the one in the States?" Ginny asked softly after a moment. "The one in Texas?"

  Alex nodded. "Yeah. Her sister owled me about it this afternoon. Said Maggie was so upset about the photo Katie ordered into the piece that she just published that she quit. Said she couldn't work in an environment where the editor isn't all for the team."

  "Katie?" Oliver reiterated with confusion. "Katie Bell?"

  "Yes, Oliver, do keep up." Alex chattered. "They came to proper terms of course, Katie apologized, but Maggie said that her career would be at a standstill if she was kept on after such an awful article."

  "She can't go to the States!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, and all eyes fell on him. "I know she's something of a gossip columnist, but she's got integrity."

  "It's her home, though." Ginny added softly.

  "No, it's not." Oliver snapped suddenly, standing abruptly. "I'll pay you back for the butterbeer."

  "Forget it, mate." Alex said, gulping. "Where you going?"

  "To London." Oliver muttered, reaching for his cloak that hung over his chair.

  "Um, I think I'll join you." Alex said, his face coloring. "Maggie's sister is in town and…"

  "Amanda?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows. Alex's face looked like it was going to explode, but he nodded and then followed Oliver as he stormed out of Rosmerta's.

  "Oh, the butterbeer wasn't spoiled, was it?" Rosmerta cooed, rushing over to Harry and Ginny.

  "Oh, no, Rosmerta, they just had some business to handle." Ginny said sweetly, and Rosmerta fanned herself with relief.

  "Oh, good. Can I take your order?" Harry and Ginny both ordered in soft voices and then, as Rosmerta tittered away, turned to each other with grins.

  "Finally." Harry said, letting out his voice on an exhale. "It seems like an eternity since we've been alone."

  "Harry, we live in the same house!" Ginny giggled. "Feeling settled now?"

  Harry laughed nervously. "As settled as can be."

  Ginny reached for one of the spare butterbeers. "You're lucky, you know. It takes some people a lifetime to get to that place."

  Harry nodded, his eyes clouding over. "Then how'd you get there so fast?"

  Ginny sharply inhaled, finishing off the rest of the two butterbeers before her. "It helps to have six predecessors who have done it all, you know?"

  Harry nodded absently.

  "I mean, really, every thing I ever considered when I was young, they already did. Work for Gringotts, tame exotic animals, work for the Ministry, start my own business, have a famous friend—and then in my fourth year, I saw Ron play and I thought 'I could do better than that'. And that's when my competitive streak began—and I guess I overdid it. I just want to outdo my brothers, Harry, and I found something I loved in the process." Ginny giggled madly. "Harry, you've always wanted to piece together that puzzle—your lineage. And when you found out what had really happened to them, you wanted to avenge. And you have. Oh, Harry, you have!"

  Ginny reached for Harry's butterbeer and he yanked it away from her. "Ginny!"

  "I don't want to feel guilty about seducing you." Ginny whispered with a giggle, having already downed the other butterbeer on the table.

  "So you have to get yourself giddy-drunk?" Harry asked, leaping up, offended.

  "No, Harry, don't take it personally, please!" Ginny leapt up after him. "If I screw this up—I'd rather not remember." She reached again for his butterbeer, and he let go of it.

  "Ginny…I don't want a repeat of Christmas." Harry whispered gravely, and she put down the bottle and tripped into his arms. "You can't do this now. We're practicing."

  "Don't you think I know it?" Ginny snapped, struggling to get out of his arms, but finding his strength matched hers. In her slightly inebriated state, she was weaker.

  "You had convulsions, Gin, you were so upset and so gone." Harry reminded her, his breath hot on her ear. 

  Ginny whimpered and Harry pulled her close. "I want you to remember _everything_."

  Four butterbeers and Ginny was no longer giddy—she was ready to pass out. Harry scooped her up, rolling his eyes. "Sorry, Rosmerta…it's been a long day. Send the bill to me."


	7. Getting closer to the grailI mean, erCup

Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter phenomenon, I'd be making money off you. I'm not. SORRY it took so long!!!!

**SEVEN**

**Four months later…**

**TIDBITS**

**By Sophia de Medici**

**  Spotted: _The Q's and A's_ Draft Correspondent Bridget Brady Finley walking hand-in-hand with boyfriend Appleby Arrow's owner Patrick Cadell, who appeared pensive after his club suffered massive fines for their Keeper Alex Woo's misconducts in a December 2003 game. Although the team has dropped several spots, the two seemed in good spirits as they ambled through London's Hyde Park the other day (See Photo 1). **

**  Firebolt heirs, one half of the twins Alexis, and baby sister Chastity Carlisle, threw a big bash for the couple at the popular underground club, _Le Dolce Alma_, owned by Alexis's friend a year her senior, young heiress Alma Lin Hu. Former _The Q's and A's_ columnist Margarita Li sat chatting with her old American school chums, with close friend Puddlemere United's Keeper and Captain Oliver Wood absent from the festivities.**

**  Finley and Cadell's engagement was announced towards the end of the evening, and Puddlemere and Appleby athletes alike applauded on, including Puddlemere's trio of young players, Alexander Mortinsen, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, dressed to the nines in this season's latest trends. Their presence only encouraged more curiosity as to the whereabouts of their captain Oliver Wood and as to the relations between Potter and Weasley, caught kissing merely days before Christmas, near Weasley's old Notting Hill townhouse. Will the young hotshots end up closer than friends? Only time (and _The Q's and A's_) will tell.**

**Warning: The Quidditch/Gossip Future is Looking Dark…**

**An Admonition by B.B. Finley, and a Farewell**

**  The high profile scene that Quidditch has become succulent with has been dwindling down to nearly a standstill since Margarita Li left her prominent position as _The Q's and A's_ coveted lead columnist due to the politics of the office. With Puddlemere United so close to the cup, the normally thriving gossip surrounding the team's young and beautiful players has gone so dry there's nearly a famine. The youthful and physically appealing set is withdrawing into tight little shells of massive Scotland estates and private little back streets of London because of the threat the glare of celebrity imposes. The fine line between good journalism and good gossip has been crossed, and even the lives of the supposedly simple reporters have been damaged almost greatly by the media's attention. It is human nature to obsess over those with the more blessed than we, and in this case, we have beauty, talent and riches. But when does human nature cross into something animalistic and cruel? You make the choice. Until then, farewell.**

B.B. Finley will be joining former columnist Margarita Li in a Carlisle House Publication, 'Metropolitan Magic', due out this summer. We wish them the best of luck.

****

**_                                                                        Sincerely,_**

**_                                                                        Katie Bell_**

**_                                                                        Editor-In-Chief_**

**Puddlemere United vs. the Montrose Magpies**

**By A.J. Lubbock**

**  In less than two weeks time, the Puddlemere United and the Montrose Magpies, with much rest after the exhausting finals that led them to this point, will vie for a position in the finals for the World Cup. The race has been tight and set with the two teams, who have been battling all season for division placements, and are at the top of the league. The best of five game output is such a close race, even Bagman wouldn't bet on it.**

  Oliver rang the doorbell of Maggie's London penthouse patiently, shoving his hands into his pockets to prevent him from knocking too eagerly. He heard her traipse through the foyer he could barely remember, and he heard her voice.

 "Hola, mi amor. ¿Sí, por supuesto, quién era más hablar a? Estoy tan solitario aquí. Pienso en cerrando el West End ático y moviendo directamente apenas al lugar viejo del Ginny en la Notting Hill. No, ninguno de esto es el defecto de Oliver. Juro, Amanda, no es apenas la política de esta carrera pequeña tonta. No, por supuesto no quiero volver a los States. ¿Usted está loco? ¿Hablé a Alexis la otra noche en alguna fiesta informal pequeña para Finley, la chica de Terras que utilicé para trabajar con? Bien, ella y Patrick finalmente obtuvo comprometido, y verdadero a su moda, ella por supuesto tuvo que tener un pequeño se junta, y Alexis habló con ella y con acerca de la unión de esa publicación que todos hablando acerca de, la "Metropolitan Magic". Ella me quiere para política y Finley para deportivo, y élla dice que él no quiere nada escrupuloso, apenas elegante. ¿Ella tema entero de la revista es una espalda del tiro a la Age of Enlightenment, verdad? Aunque hay alguna pregunta pequeña tonta que coloca artículos acerca de la vida y la filosofía, obtendré para ser un periodista político verdadero. ¿Fresco, no? Mi bondad, tengo que ir, Amanda, alguien a la puerta. Hasta luego, mi amor, y lo verán pronto, promeso."

  The door opened and there she stood, in the raw glory of striped pajamas with a strange contraption in her hand. "Oliver." Maggie said, her voice ringing with surprise, and something of a scowl set in on her features. "Sorry I took so long."

  Oliver tried to find a place to stare, and chose to focus on the contraption in her hand.

  Her eyes followed his and she shrugged. "It's a phone. It's kind of like talking to someone in the fires, but you only hear their voice, and you have to press in a number…it's a long process, but my sister's in Muggle New York right now, so I don't have much of a choice."

  Maggie's hot chocolate eyes were cold and her voice was flat. "Do you want to come in?"

  Oliver nodded, and she rolled her eyes and walked into the spacious and bright apartment, letting him follow her in and close the door himself.

  The apartment must have seemed especially bright due to the fact that it was a) the middle of the afternoon and b) it was nearly empty, save a few boxes.

  Oliver cleared his throat. "Good afternoon."

  "Save the salutations, Oliver, I'm about to order dinner. Join me?" Maggie's voice sounded tired and a bit guarded.

  Oliver nodded. The walls were papered with fresh white sheets, as were the floors. "Moving?"

  "I think so…the West End just isn't what it used to be anymore…or it doesn't mean as much to me anymore—what it stands for." Maggie rambled and then she broke into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "What are you in the mood for?"

  "I don't care." Oliver said, shrugging. "Whatever you want."

  "You're my guest." Maggie snapped back too suddenly. "I insist, you choose."

  "Um…I dropped in unexpectedly…by all means, just double whatever you were going to order." Oliver replied slowly. 

  "No, really, it doesn't matter." Maggie continued, again too quickly, and Oliver gave her and odd look, to which she retorted to with a sigh. "I'm sorry…I'm just a little sensitive right now and your chivalry is wasted on me. Really, I _insist_, you have to order…my brain is frazzled."

  "Alright then." Oliver's thumbs twiddled together. "Are there any local places you know that would deliver?"

  She paced around the kitchen, not surprisingly in heels to match her striped pajama pants, and pulled out a drawer with a hole-punched little book of paper menus of various sizes, held together with a shiny ribbon. She grinned at him sheepishly. "I've stayed in quite a bit these days."

  "I remember the first time you took me out to Cannes…you couldn't keep your dress on and I couldn't figure out which way was most polite to look." Oliver murmured, taking the menu book from her.

  "And here I thought I looked rather innocent for Cannes." Margarita replied, tilting her head to one side with the first smile that reached her pupils. 

  "You did…little black dress with the little beige ruffle—" A smile stretched across Oliver's lips lazily.

  "It was a Fredrick's black mini-corset dress that laced up in the back." Margarita interrupted shortly. "It probably cost less than your watch."

  "And that little cameo choker." Oliver whispered, flipping through the menu book casually.

  "It was my grandmother's." Maggie said after a moment. "She died that summer."

  "Do you still have it?" His reply was almost polite on top of being somewhat soothing…something Maggie found appealing.

  "No, no…I gave it to my sister one day when I was high…she was so much more of a sentimentalist than I was…even when I was sober—I mean…I am sober." Another half-smile. "I've been for a while…a long while…since, well, that game so long ago."

  There was a pause, and Oliver's tongue peeked out to lick his lower lip nervously. "Ah. So I see." Another pause. "I wasn't the only one who decided there had to be a change."

  "I was very disappointed," Margarita began, her pitch and her chin rising slightly, "That you didn't…" She swallowed a lump in her throat as her tear ducts swelled, "Wait for me."

  Oliver sighed heavily, and there was a pause. He didn't look at her. "You have to realize that I was under the impression that you were flawless."

  "And now?" Her decibel had reached an unreasonable squeak, and Oliver almost smiled when he heard this.

  "I'm here to apologize, my dear." He said with a throat-clearing cough. "For whatever you had to quit over."

  "That's not an answer." Maggie said flatly, snatching the menu book back from him.

  "That's why you were upset, right? When I arrived, right?" Oliver's voice dipped with his head, trying to meet Maggie's eyes.

  "Yes, but, I asked you what you thought of me." She muttered hotly, her lower lip drawing in like a pout.

  "Margarita Anastacia Li, were you sober those nearly two years ago when I saw you at the World Cup?" Oliver replied very coolly, taking the menu book back from Maggie, in fear of it being torn apart.

  "Yes." Maggie answered reluctantly.

  "Well, then it'd be fair to say that I've been in love with you since…well, forever." Oliver thumbed through the menu without a purpose and shrugged. "Does that answer your question?"

  "You're a condescending asshole." She snapped, snatching the menu book back the final time. "We're ordering Chinese."

  "Whatever you say…ma'am." Oliver drawled with a grin, and she rolled her eyes, smacking him with it while she dialed.

  "Yes, I'd like two number 4s with white rice, two number 8s, one jumbo bowl of number 5, and two number 3s. Yes, the address is—"

  "All right then, we've got Weasley ad number 276 for the green toga…one more and we're good to go for the season!" Someone shouted across the room, and a very tired Ginny Weasley forced a smile. For the past month, six days out of the week she had been in practice from six in the morning to eleven, and then she'd be in photo shoots from one to seven in the evening. She had one more photo shoot tomorrow for two covers—her last official cover for _The Q's and A's_ this season and the very first for _Metropolitan Magic_. 

  In the midst of all of this, the only times she saw Harry anymore were either in practice, or by some fortunate (and awkward) accident in roaming around the house to and from practice.

  Now the bodice of a lovely bright green chiffon empire waist-style toga was being taken in to provide more va-va-voom, as the photographer put it, while people stuck things in her hair to make it appear more "goddess-like" and "divine". The dressers kept tying and retying the satin bow that was placed almost entirely on her left side, just below her chest. She had popped out more than once and all she really wanted to do was sleep.

  "Your interview with Cho Chang is in five minutes, Miss Weasley." Someone told her as they gave her a sip of water out of a straw.

  "What?" Ginny demanded faintly, but her makeup artist shut her up with a heavy application of thin lip-gloss.

 The most sparse golden glitter had been placed all over Ginny's face—a little on the apple of her cheeks, a lot on her eyelids in addition to brown liner and thin, curling mascara, and now on her lips. Her skin was glowing, and her eyelids were drooping.

  "I'm going to faint if we don't get this over with soon." She muttered as they led her over to the backdrop of a garden, her bare feet getting the silky touch of hothouse flowers that lined the floor.

  "Now for the rented jewelry!" The photographer shouted almost hoarsely as they brought in large shopping bags of jewelry cases. They began taking everything out of Ginny's hair, letting spiral curls fall in layers from her chin, to her shoulders, to her back. 

  "Could we get a little more oomph with the volume so she doesn't look twelve?"

  "No way those tits are twelve!"

  "Excuse me!" Ginny demanded as someone raised the height on her hair.

  "Sorry doll, we're all tired, so we're all losing our tact."

  "Get that Cartier diamond and pearl tiara in."

  "That's more money than this photographer makes in three years goin' on top of her head, so make sure it gets back to its rightful owner."

  "The ring!"

  "Are they going to see the ring, Chatchie?"

  "Who cares? It's hella trivia!"

  "Come on, kids, we've got about an hour left. Let's hurry this on up."

  "The ring won't fit her middle finger."

  "I wish it did." Ginny muttered. A garland of leaf and flower shaped diamonds had just been draped around her neck, and they shoved the platinum-set, marquise diamond ring onto her left hand, and Ginny couldn't even tell which finger it was on.

  "Miss Weasley? Miss Chang is here." Someone told her sweetly as the backlights hit Ginny.

  "Let's get these shots of this first." The photographer snapped at her. "That's right, Ginny, goddess…divine…don't play coy, play cool, but inviting…like Tatiana the Fairy Queen…okay, one more…spread smile, Gin, that's right…one more, lids half-open…that's right, good girl…one more…tilt your chin, Gin, with bigger, coy eyes…that's good, that's good…one more…pouty lips for me, Gin…that's good…one more, one more…that's right, with the lids, Gin…oh, she's a natural…one more…and we're done…wait, one more…Nah, we're done. You're beautiful, kid. NEXT!"

  Cho Chang was busy talking into her quill when Ginny came over to the folding screen to change.

  "When I arrived, the set was in full swing, the finishing touches being put on Ginny Weasley's hair and makeup…she looked like a fairy princess stepping out to play in the _Laces and Nets Couture_ ad, stepping into flowers and glittering from head to toe in a gorgeous bright green sheer toga. She bustled into the dressing room for the last outfit of the day and I reintroduced myself." Cho lowered her quill. "Hello, Ginny."

  "Hi." Ginny said, her voice slightly muffled as they pulled the dress over her head.

  "Busy week, eh?" Cho asked in her mystical 'reporter' voice.

  "Yeah…who's this interview for?" Ginny asked almost crudely, wiping the lip-gloss off of her mouth with the back of her hand.

  "Why, of course it's for _The Q's and A's_, the most popular magazine of the year." Cho exclaimed with such a false voice Ginny rolled her eyes. "We've had our eye on you this year, Ginny."

  "I'm aware." Ginny muttered as they began pulling the tiara out of her hair delicately.

  "Oh, someone sounds a little bitter. Excited for the big move?" Cho's voice had elevated to a level of false gaiety that even Rita Skeeter would've been ashamed of.

 "Huh?"

  "Into your St. Andrew's place! Shacking up must be terribly exciting!" Ginny stepped out from behind the screen, even more confused. In a navy blue swimsuit with lacy golden short shorts, she sat down at the makeup mirror so her hair could be done. "I mean, moving in with Harry Potter…how _can_ you two not be dating?"

  "By being too busy…I've almost eaten all three of my meals here." Ginny answered shortly as they removed the necklace from around her neck.

  "Nice ring." Cho snapped, losing her cool for a second.

  Ginny looked down at her left hand. On the ring finger was the "auspiciously" placed diamond ring. She yanked it off. "Yeah…too bad I don't get to keep it."

  "Is that the kind of ring you're into?" Cho asked slyly, and Ginny rolled her eyes as her stylist made her hair a little rattier and beach-like.

  "Nah…I want bigger, better—bank-breaking." Ginny said sarcastically. The stylist tapped a wand to her bare shoulder and her skin darkened a bit. The glittery gold took new effect with this darker skin tone. She looked youthful and carefree.

  "Okay, let's get you going, Miss Weasley." Her stylist said affectionately, as they fixed a dozen charm and bangle bracelets on each of her arms.

  "You know what? I think I'm going to faint…why don't we schedule a fire talk tomorrow?" Ginny called out after Cho before she stepped into the warm and fake sand.

  "Fabulous, Ginny, you look fabulous."

  Ginny motioned for one of the girls to come closer. "Can someone please owl Katie Bell and request that my interview tomorrow be set up with someone a little more professional?"

  "One more, Ginny…that's right, fun and frolic…one more, I promise…wink at us, Ginny…one more…that's it…"

   "What are your feelings about the League Cup?" _Young Bachelor Digest'_s sole female reporter, Brooklyn Xylon asked flirtatiously. The girl had a lot of spunk and was pretty much a celebutante of all trades. She had been drafted but had gone down with an ankle injury after table dancing.

  "Well, I'm confident that it'll be a good series. It's only between us and the Magpies now." Harry answered as he walked with Brooklyn down a staircase in the St. Andrew's estate, after having given her and the photographers a tour.

  "Yes, and do you think Puddlemere will win?" She persisted, her fingers lasciviously dancing down the banister.

  "Well, I look forward to playing in the States, if that answers your question." Harry said with a smile. Brooklyn giggled.

  "Meaning, of course, the playoffs leading to the two teams in the World Cup."

  "Of course."

  "So, what's it like to be living with one of the most beautiful women in England?" Brooklyn had no qualms about cutting straight to the chase.

  "Pardon?" Harry asked, his voice almost squeaking suspiciously.

  "Ginny Weasley. The party girl has nearly disappeared from the scene and many men have you to blame for it…" Brooklyn's voice lingered, but Harry was starting to sense that this girl was dangerous.

  "Well, if by me you mean Quidditch, because we've been training six days a week for the past months to be prepared for the—" Harry turned and nearly tripped over his ankles.

  "That's not what I meant." Brooklyn interrupted flatly. "Ever since you came back to England and moved into this house with the 22-year-old party girl, she hasn't even been seen around her favorite hotspots in London with best friend Kirley Duke…whose engagement should be facing rumors of an affair with the rocking redhead…"

  "Where do you come up with this stuff?" Harry demanded as he led her back to the foyer, the interview almost over.

  "Come on, it has to be hot and sexy in this house." Brooklyn joked, her flirtatious smile not hitting her eyes. "I mean, look at the decoration…and I'm not only talking about you, Harry."

  Harry stared blankly at Brooklyn for a second, her voluminous layers of heavy, dyed blonde hair seeming out of place in the recreation of several Notting Hill and SoHo homes combined into the St. Andrew's setting. "To tell you the truth…I've lived with Ginny for six years, practically."

  "Oh, really?" Brooklyn was starting to sound a little…jealous.

  "At Hogwarts…we were in the same house, and of course, her brother Ron is my best friend."

  Brooklyn the reporter looked a little disappointed. Brooklyn the girl didn't seem so much. The split personality was starting to scare him.

  "Yeah…and it was pretty much the same arrangement, except at Hogwarts I didn't see her during the day much because we weren't in the same year, but we pretty much only see each other right before, during and after practice…unless some insomnia miraculously attacks us both at the same time and we go to eat old cheese like pathetic single losers."

  Harry thought he had handled that question very well.

  "And what do you think of these young 'tail-gaters', who follow whatever successful teams to the playoffs and all the way to the World Cup?" Brooklyn asked, her last question and her voice considerably lower.

  "Ah…my friend Margarita used to do that when she was young…I understand it's all usually just one big party, and some are in it for the glory of whoever is winning, and some just want to see good Quidditch. Either way, I really could care less."

  Brooklyn leaned in, turning off her quill. "I'll be tail-gating this summer."

  "Aren't you a bit young for that?" Harry joked, moving out of her bubble.

  "Oh, God, what a day I've had. Harry, you home?" Ginny flounced in the door, wearing a swimsuit top, shorts, and flip-flops, with groceries in her arms. "Oh…hello. And you are?"

  "Hi." Brooklyn said with a coy smirk, moving up behind Harry in a way like she owned the place in her obnoxiously bright blouse, her athletic-style office skirt, and her huge high heels. She placed her hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm Brooklyn Xylon…I've been interviewing Harry for his cover story on _Young Bachelor's Digest_."

  "I'm sure you have been." Ginny replied brightly, her smile making her more like the innocent mistress rather than the lady of the house she really was and that Brooklyn was pretending to be. "Well, I hate to kick you out," No, really, she didn't think she did,  "But Mister Potter and I have a garden party we're throwing for the team before we start our last day of training tomorrow and, well, we don't have enough chairs to accommodate you." 'And your slutty ass!' Ginny thought behind her bright smile. "Please feel free to let yourself out of _my_ home."

  "Right." Brooklyn couldn't believe how adolescent Ginny made her feel…how helpless. She was a good three years younger than Ginny, but that was hardly a lifetime. What puzzled Brooklyn more was how she, the wealthy and youthful woman dressed to kill, could be beaten by the girl next door who worked her way up from the gutter, dressed like a teenager about to go play in a wading pool. "Let's go then."

  After they let themselves out, Ginny's eyebrows raised to her hair. "Well, that was interesting."

  "Thanks." Harry said with a grin. "That was kind of scary."

  "I've dealt with Brooklyn before, but she was probably too high to remember." Ginny muttered, handing the groceries to Harry as she quickly whizzed her fingers through her hair and made two stick braids. "She's a leech."

  "Only one more day of freedom, Gin." Harry whispered, following her into the kitchen.

  "I don't know what you're calling freedom…I'm up at four and in bed practically at eight because I can't take it anymore…I just hope we get the World Cup, to make all of this worth it." Ginny started helping him unpack the groceries.

  They looked like a young, cute couple playing house.

  "Your birthday's coming up." Harry reminded her as they began washing and cutting the vegetables together. They cut little pieces and handed them to each other, tasting them.

  "I know." Ginny told him as she washed off the peaches.

  "Looking forward to spending it in New York?" Harry asked her with a grin. Ginny nodded, and suddenly, it hit her how domestic the pair had become in their self-inflicted exile.

  She put the peaches down and slipped her arm under his, her hand resting over his on a knife, and putting it down. Her other arm slipped along him from the other side, and she hugged him. "Thank you so much."

  Harry closed his eyes, her body pressed against his back, not knowing what to say. "You're welcome, then…"

  To be continued…


End file.
